


A Tale of Two Kravitzes

by Buffintruder



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: 'I found my brand new best friend and its me', Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crystal Kingdom, Dopplegangers, M/M, bard!kravitz, eighth bird au, eighth bird kravitz, kravitz is keats, minor discworld crossover in the 2nd chapter, you don't have to know anything about it though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 02:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 54,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18437099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buffintruder/pseuds/Buffintruder
Summary: “What are you playing at?” Kravitz demanded his doppelganger.The other Kravitz stared at him blankly. “Um, what?”“You’ve taken my face and my name? Who are you?!”“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” his doppelganger said. “This is my name and face!”An eighth bird au where Kravitz, a Reclaimer of the Bureau of Balance, runs into Kravitz, a reaper for the Raven Queen





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Star Crossed Is One Way Of Putting It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321215) by [Weevilo707](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weevilo707/pseuds/Weevilo707). 



> I was reading “Star Crossed Is One Way of Putting It” by Weevilo707, a really great 8th bird Kravitz au set during the Stolen Century, and wondered: what happens when these characters get to Faerun and meet reaper Kravitz? This was only supposed to be a small thing set during the Crystal Kingdom, but then it turned into a 40k+ monster that I haven’t even finished writing yet. This isn’t meant to be a direct sequel to that, so there’s probably a bunch of details that don’t line up.
> 
> This alternates between the point of view of the IPRE!Kravitz and Reaper!Kravitz, and it should be clear from the first sentence of each section which one it is, but I apologize for any confusion.

There are literally countless universes in existence, each containing trillions of worlds within billions of planar systems. Everything imaginable exists somewhere, as does everything unimaginable, regardless of logic or likelihood. And each possibility has millions of permutations, like variations on a musical theme, details shifted to change the sound while still following the main idea.

There was one permutation in which Kravitz was among the seven chosen for a research mission to explore other planes of existence.

His knowledge of science was not exceptional, but as a bard, he was skilled at communicating with others. For all the IPRE knew, there could very well be sentient life in the planes beyond their own, and they liked to plan for all likely possibilities. At the very least, Kravitz would be responsible for keeping the crew together. On a ship that was powered by the interpersonal bonds the crew formed amongst themselves, that was a vital piece to consider.

There were six other people who were to join him on this mission. Lup’s twin brother had not been chosen, but as the crew found out sometime later, that hadn’t done much to stop him from coming along. Which was pretty fortunate for Kravitz because, as it would turn out, Taako was a pretty wonderful person to date.

It was one bright point in a century spent hopping from world to world, fleeing the being that destroyed their home.

A hundred years was a long time to be on the run, and it took its toll on the crew. The decisions they made in order to end their journey would not have been the same if they were made a century sooner, even if they had all the same information. The Kravitz who first stepped onto the Starblaster could not have imagined watching his crew members split the Light of Creation into seven catastrophic objects and let them loose on the world. The only reason Kravitz did not also create one was an inconvenient death in the world where he would have learned how to make it.

But a hundred years was also a long time to forge connections between people. In that time, the seven crew members and their one stowaway became something closer than family, closer than friends, closer than any word could possibly describe.

To Kravitz, these people were the most important in the entire multiverse. They were his one consistency in a hundred years of change and loss, his support, his source of hope and joy. In a journey that saw the destruction of dozens of planar systems, they were his _world._

Then in one disastrous moment, a hundred cycles from home, all of that was taken from him.

Kravitz was left with a fantastic job as conductor of the Neverwinter Orchestra and the aching feeling that he was missing something incredibly important.

 

* * *

 

The Kravitz that originated in the planar system that the former IPRE now found themselves in had been born centuries prior.

He had gone through a life that was extremely boring, right up until his death, which had been extremely interesting—at least from an outside perspective. His death, an unintended side effect of his siblings’ experiments, had been unusual enough to garner the attention of the Raven Queen. The abnormality of his situation continued to his afterlife when Kravitz ended up as a reaper; a job he both enjoyed and became extremely competent at.

Most of his work involved investigating instances of suspicious necromantic activity or escorting special cases to the Astral Plane. It was the kind of job that was never boring, but several centuries of doing it still meant that much of what he did had fallen into a predictable pattern.

Kravitz lived (metaphorically speaking) for the interesting cases, the ones with big bounties and bigger challenges.

All the bored, adventurous, and ambitious reapers paid careful attention to the details of these big bounties as they showed up in their books, even when they weren’t actively searching the world for them. If they happened across one of these bounties on a different case, it would mean that their work was about to become much more interesting. And if things went well, a large payment would also come their way.

The day after the Starblaster arrived in this planar system, Kravitz flipped through his book of bounties for any exciting updates, as he frequently did when nothing much was going on. For the first time in a bit, he found one.

Kravitz didn’t need to breathe, and his saliva glands didn’t work anymore, but he still felt like he choked on his own spit when he saw the latest entry. Eight names had appeared overnight, which was almost unheard of, and that was just the start of it.

Kravitz read through the charges twice, just to make sure he had read it properly the first time. He had. Every single one of these people had died more than once, ranging from 7 to 56 times. And not a single person had entered the Astral Plane once.

People dying and not entering the Astral Plane wasn’t that uncommon of an occurrence; it was where a fair amount of Kravitz’s work stemmed from. All sorts of things were done to attempt to achieve life after death, and sometimes those things worked.

What Kravitz couldn’t understand was how someone could die _multiple times_. It was a question that likely could only be answered by the eight people in his book. In that moment, Kravitz vowed to himself that he would catch at least one of them, if for no other reason than to satisfy his curiosity.

Kravitz skimmed through the information again, this time taking in all the more personal details, the ones not directly related to the crimes they had committed. There wasn’t very much, but that wasn’t surprising. The kind of people Kravitz hunted down tended to be secretive.

The book really only had their names, listed in alphabetical order. Kravitz raised an eyebrow at the name Barry Bluejeans, continued on to Davenport who had died the fewest times, and then—

Kravitz blinked, but there was his name in the same black ink as the rest of these bounties.

There was no way this could be referring to him; he would have known if he had died seventeen times, plus the Raven Queen would have contacted him about it. It must have just been someone with the same name. He had never met anyone else called Kravitz, but he didn’t think it was all that uncommon of a name. It was just a strange coincidence and nothing else.

He shrugged it off, mentally preparing for the teasing he was sure to receive from all the other reapers. He looked forward to the time when the eight were all locked up in the Eternal Stockade and he would no longer have to be reminded of the bounty that shared his name.

 

* * *

 

A few years later, Kravitz found himself feeling restless with his job at the Neverwinter Orchestra.

Logically, he had everything he ever wanted.

He had achieved his lifelong dream of becoming a conductor, and he now directed one of the best orchestras in the world. He had a good income and a nice house somewhere close enough to Neverwinter for the commute to be decent but also far enough away from the bustling city that Kravitz could enjoy some peace and quiet.

He had friends: people he worked with, people who lived nearby, people he frequently ran into while shopping. Maybe none of them were people he would die for, but they were pleasant company, and Kravitz would no problem offering them help if they needed some.

This was his dream, his paradise, the goal he had been working towards his whole life. But now that he had gotten there, everything just felt empty.

He had never considered himself as the type of person who would spend their entire lives searching for more than what they currently had. He had been content in his childhood, even though he encountered people who had it better than him in a number of ways. He had never wanted much more than a comfortable life and a job that challenged him.

The ideal life he had dreamed up as a child was a fairly simple one compared to the fantasies of most of his classmates, and Kravitz couldn’t remember feeling particularly unhappy with his lot in life even before he had gotten a job as a conductor.

Yet somehow, a voice now haunted the corners of his mind, telling him that there had to be more to life than this. His goals of further improving the orchestra, of renovating his house, of becoming closer friends with some of the people he knew, these all seemed petty and insignificant in the face of everything there was in the universe.

So despite having everything Kravitz thought he had wanted, he went and left it all behind.

Travelling the world helped a little bit. Part of his discontent had come from wanderlust. Kravitz was sure he had never felt that until he moved to Neverwinter, and he wondered why it only started bothering him then. Maybe being in such a cosmopolitan place had given him glimpses of greater world, making him want to see even more. That explanation didn't quite fit, but it was all Kravitz had.

He didn't become an adventurer exactly, because that implied a sort of intention when it came to finding trouble and danger. Since Kravitz was travelling alone and bad at fighting, he didn’t seek out jobs killing monsters or saving towns, earning his money instead by playing music and telling stories. He still seemed to end up on quite a few adventures.

Roaming the world filled some of the hole that resided in Kravitz’s chest, but it dug out a new section too.

Kravitz loved seeing different places, meeting different people, and doing different things, but he missed having some consistency in his life. He missed having people he could rely on, even just having friends that he had known for more than a few weeks.

He didn’t know if this way of life was overall better or worse than the one he had left behind.

Once, when he was passing through a nice town filled with kind and welcoming people, Kravitz decided to simply stop. He used his savings to buy a small cottage and found work that didn’t involve any sort of performance art.

It turned out he was very good at weaving, something that surprised everyone, Kravitz most of all. He had never gone into threadwork, but his hands seemed to know what to do.

He spent just over a year in this town. It wasn’t a bad life, but it was just as unfulfilling as Neverwinter, and he didn’t even like his job as much. Living in one place had been a nice change of pace, but there was still that longing for more gnawing away at his soul. Soon, Kravitz found that as much as he loved the people there, he couldn’t stand to spend another week in this place.

Once again, Kravitz packed his bags and left his life behind.

Another couple of years passed, with Kravitz wandering from place to place until eventually he found himself back in Neverwinter. Due to a series of misfortunes involving some gangsters in Goldcliff and an economic downturn that made earning money difficult for travelling bards, Kravitz found himself seeking out the type of adventuring work he had been so careful to avoid before.

Still aware of his limits, Kravitz tried to seek out a job that either wouldn’t involve a lot of fighting or had other people working along with him.

Kravitz found one that he was pretty sure fit both of his preferences, though the job description was a bit vague, so he couldn't be entirely certain. Sure, it was a little ominous how his employer emphasized that “This is the last job you’ll ever take!” but it wasn’t like he had a lot of options.

He did like the people he was working with, which was more than he could say for a lot of other gigs he had done. They seemed a bit goofy, but at least that would make the long cart ride they had ahead of them more interesting.

Kravitz wasn’t entirely sure how much he could trust their skills in adventuring, though. Magnus was incredibly strong, but he had a recklessness that Kravitz thought would probably get them all into trouble at some point. Taako was mysterious and aloof, and though he didn’t seem all that bright, some of his comments suggested hidden depths that Kravitz found himself wanting to learn more about. A fair portion of the time, Merle didn’t seem to have a clue what he was doing, but then again, neither did Kravitz.

They were a rather motley crew, and Kravitz was pretty sure they were going to get themselves killed out of sheer incompetence, but something about working with them felt right in a way that nothing had been in the past ten years. This group would probably split up and go their separate ways eventually, but Kravitz knew he would not be the first to leave.

 

* * *

 

It took Kravitz eleven years to run into any of the eight bounties with all those deaths.

He hadn’t been looking for them at the time. He only meant to check out the weird mass-death in Phandalin. So many people dying at the exact same moment was never a good thing, and sometimes they could be caused by a necromantic experiment gone wrong—or gone right depending on the goal.

When he arrived, however, he saw the giant black disk of glass and relaxed. It was awful and Kravitz wished there was something he could do about it, but it was also familiar and he knew that it wasn’t any necromantic thing. Still, it had been a while since he had last seen one of these glassings. He hoped they weren’t starting up again.

Kravitz looked around for any sign of what had caused this, but all he saw was the remains of a dwarf, one arm pointed into the sky. The who was obvious, but if there had been any sign of _what_ , it wasn’t around anymore.

A flash of red caught his eye, and he whirled around, half-expecting to see some leftover fire burning at the edge of the disk. Instead, there was a ghostly figure in a red robe. Kravitz had no idea who this was or if they had been involved in the destruction of this town, but he knew an undead being when he saw one.

Kravitz approached carefully, but it didn’t seem to notice. It appeared to be clutching its head and muttering to itself.

“How could I have forgotten them? Forgotten _her?_ ” he heard it say. “I—fuck, you’d think I’d be used to this by now!” The figure grew more agitated with every word, and by the time it cut itself off, it had started crackling with something that looked like red electricity.

This was a lich, Kravitz knew. And it was losing control of itself. He should attack now, while it was still distracted, before it noticed him and turned all its unrestrained magic on him.

“No,” the lich continued. “It’s okay. Just relax. I’ve got this. Right.”

The red electricity began dying down, as Kravitz watched, astonished. He knew that there were some liches who had control of themselves, but he had never seen one talk itself down like that. Part of him knew that he should be dragging the lich back to the Astral Plane before it was too late, but he couldn’t make himself interrupt. This wasn’t something he saw every day.

“Come on, Barry, think of _her_ . You saw _them_ this time, and—” the lich’s voice began to rise in tempo and pitch, “—they were empty shells of their former selves! They couldn’t even—” It cut itself off again. “Right!” it said loudly. “I made progress. I found the Relic. She has to be here somewhere... Where did it go?”

The lich started looking around, its attention catching on the remains of the dwarf before spotting Kravitz.

“Hey, excuse me? Did you happen to see a Gauntlet anywhere? It was on that dwarf, but then my death distracted me a bit, and by the time I got myself together, it was gone.”

Kravitz froze, not having expected the lich to address him. It sounded friendly, but this had to be a trick of some sort. He didn’t trust it to not attack him the moment it got some sort of advantage.

“Uh, no,” Kravitz said, stepping forward as non-threateningly as he could. If he could put himself in a better position for attack before the lich could make any move, he would have an advantage. Behind his back, he let his fingers curl around the hilt of his scythe. “Sorry, I just got here too.”

“Oh, okay,” the lich said. It looked around some more, its gaze catching on something up in the sky. Kravitz glanced up to see some distant, shrinking orb, but he turned his attention quickly back to earth in case the lich was just trying to distract him.

“Who are you?” Kravitz asked, taking another step.

“I’m Barry B—” the lich started absent-mindedly before swinging its gaze abruptly back down to Kravitz. “Wait, is that a scythe? Oh shit.”

Kravitz leaped forward, swinging his scythe, but Barry had already zipped off to the other side of the circle of black glass, Kravitz giving chase.

It soon became clear, however, that he had no chance of catching up. The lich was simply too fast, and once they were off the circle of black glass, there were too many trees and hills to lose him behind.

When Kravitz finally lost Barry for good, he sighed to himself and returned to the Astral Plane. He went straight to his book of bounties for any signs of who this Barry could be. There might be some hint there as to where the lich had gone.

There were two Barrys in the book, but since one of them was there for a botched attempt at raising a cat from the dead, Kravitz figured that Barry probably wasn’t capable of turning himself into a lich. Which left the other Barry. Who was one of the Eight.

Kravitz groaned. He had gotten so close to catching one of the most question-inducing and high-priced bounties Kravitz had ever seen. If he saw the red-robed figure again, he would not waste time watching it battle for control over itself. Barry J. Bluejeans was not getting off so easily a second time.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Taako said, startling Kravitz out of the book he was reading.

A weight pressed down on the mattress beside him, and an arm slung itself around Kravitz's shoulders. Ever since they had gotten sort of into a relationship a few days ago, Taako had grown a lot more tactile around Kravitz, even when they weren’t kissing or doing anything of the sort.

Blinking, Kravitz glanced up from his book to see the gray walls of the dorm he and his fellow adventurers had been given. Currently, the room was empty of Merle and Magnus, who must have left some time ago without Kravitz noticing.

It was just him and Taako then. Excitement and dread curled up together in Kravitz’s stomach, and that wasn’t even a combination of emotions he had realized could exist.

“Whatcha readin’?” Taako asked, flicking at a page.

“Oh, just a novel,” Kravitz said, showing Taako the cover. It showed a dusty town in a desert, the dark shadows around the edges giving the impression of fangs and claws. In the week that the four of them had been on the Bureau of Balance headquarters, they hadn’t been given a lot to do, so Kravitz had taken advantage of the free time to explore the library.

“Neat,” Taako said, barely looking at the cover.

This was how Taako was, Kravitz reminded himself ignoring his disappointment at Taako’s lack of interest. He was always so aloof and distant, like part of his heart was missing. He didn’t care about people.

Except that statement wasn’t entirely true. Kravitz remembered when he had stumbled while running for the well in Phandalin, and the terror in Taako’s eyes as he yanked Kravitz up. He remembered Taako’s quickly-buried sorrow when they first saw what was left of the town. Kravitz thought that he could fall in love with the person he glimpsed in those tense moments, which was a shame because the person that Taako was most of the time was guaranteed to break the heart of anyone who might try to care for him.

“Yeah...” Kravitz said, looking awkwardly back down at his book. He knew what the near future was going to bring, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted more for it to happen or for it to be over with.

Taako drew his hand away from Kravitz’s shoulder, up the back of his neck and into his tightly-curled hair. “You wanna do something more fun?”

Without bothering with words, Kravitz leaned forward until his lips met Taako’s, just to see if it really was like his memories. It was both wonderful and not. Kissing Taako felt like rightness had been returned to the universe, like all the confusing things in Kravitz’s life that didn’t match up with anything no longer mattered, like a dissonant chord being resolved into perfect harmony. But it also felt like something was missing, just another hollow thing in this decade of empty emotions.

It was the most frustrating experience of Kravitz’s life, so amazing that the slight wrongness was devastating. But unlike all the other discontent in his life, Kravitz could do something about it. He had been thinking about this for awhile, and now seemed like a less terrible time than others to put and end to this affair.

Regretfully, Kravitz drew back. “I want to stop.”

“What?” Taako asked, his breath just slightly off tempo. “Uh, sure, if you’re not in the mood.”

“No, I mean this—” Kravitz waved his hand. They weren’t dating, so he wasn’t sure if he could call it a relationship. They were just two coworkers that occasionally made out and had sex a couple of times. “This thing that we’re doing.”

“Right,” Taako said blankly, drawing back..

Kravitz felt his cheeks heat. Everything about this felt stiff and unnatural. They didn’t normally talk about whatever thing they had, which maybe was a sign that Kravitz was doing the right thing by ending it. It still didn’t help with all the words caught in his throat, battling each other to be the first out.

“Why?” Taako asked.

And there was a question Kravitz could answer, something specific to narrow down his possible responses. The words came smoother now. “It’s just—I, uh, don’t really do casual relationships. And you don’t seem the type for non-casual relationships.” Great. And now Taako probably thought that Kravitz had fallen in love with him, which despite not being entirely untrue, was a bit more dramatic than reality. “Plus it’s sort of unprofessional, and the Bureau seems like the kind of place that would care about that sort of thing. And I’m not sure we’re working well.”

“Oh,” Taako said. Kravitz had expected him to shrug it off, make some joke about missing out on some fun times, and then go back to normal, as if nothing had happened. Instead, Taako carefully avoided Kravitz’s gaze, hunching his shoulders away from him. “Yeah. Don’t want to upset the Director lady. Or get into relationships we don’t want. I—I should probably go.”

 And before Kravitz could do or say anything, Taako had sprung up from the bed and left the room, the door closing firmly shut behind him.

Kravitz had been so sure this was the right thing to do when planning it out the day before. He already felt like he was just going through the motions of life, without adding more to it. Plus, he was saving himself future heartbreak by not getting emotionally invested in someone who would probably wouldn’t feel the same way about Kravitz as he could feel about him. But seeing the way Taako reacted made Kravitz question if Taako really cared as little as he seemed to.

Kravitz spent a long time staring at the door Taako had left through, wondering if he had really made the right decision.

 

* * *

 

Being dead and eternal, time had lost much of its meaning for reapers. Everything passed too quickly for them to be able to keep track of days or even months, especially for the older ones.

Still, in the spirit of workplace camaraderie, the Raven Queen hosted a Candlenights office party once every ten years. Kravitz had been to more of these than he could count, so he wasn't exactly disappointed to be sent to investigate suspicious going ons in some scientist’s lab that night instead. The next one would come around before he knew it.

After arriving at the lab, he had a quick look around. The problem seemed barely worth missing the party over. Sure, the spreading crystal thing was weird in a way that was somehow familiar, but a guy trying to bring someone back from the dead was the kind of business Kravitz dealt with every other week.

He could see that this wasn't going to be that interesting of a case, and he was missing out on some festivities right now, so Kravitz figured why not have some fun with it? He needed something to entertain himself.

With that decided, Kravitz took stock of his options. There were lots of loose chunks of crystal that he could easily gather together into a humanoid body to harass the scientist with. It was the kind of thing that really scared less experienced necromancers, which Lucas Miller appeared to be.

But as he planned his place of ambush, he was interrupted by the arrival of newcomers.

Curious as to who was coming out here in this floating laboratory in the middle of the night, Kravitz dropped what he was doing to check it out. Miller didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon, so he could be dealt with later.

There were four figures in strange suits of various shades of red with what looked like a glass bubble on each of their heads. Since they weren’t turning into crystal like almost everything else in this place, Kravitz figured that the suits were meant to stop that. Which would mean that without the suits they were vulnerable. He took note of that.

Whoever these people were, they had knowingly walked into this situation, which made Kravitz suspicious. They could easily be in touch with Miller, maybe even accomplices.

But there was a chance that they were innocent too, so Kravitz would have to take a closer look to find out for sure. Turning himself incorporeal, Kravitz drew large chunks of crystal together into the large humanoid body he had been planning on using on Miller.

The four red-clad people noticed him fairly quickly, whirling around towards where the chunks of crystal were gathering. Their faces were visible through the glass, surprise and confusion reflected in their wide eyes. One of them looked very familiar.

As Kravitz's body finished forming, his mind was busy trying to place the face. It didn’t remind him of anyone he had fought with or hunted; Kravitz didn’t get a bad feeling around this person. It wasn’t someone he had saved before, it wasn’t a bystander in one of his hunts, it was—it was _himself_.

Shocked by his realization, the body that Kravitz’s soul had just begun to inhabit froze, his mind reeling. That was what his face had looked like all those centuries ago, before hundreds of years had chipped away at his memory of it, slowly changing his face every time he tried to replicate it.

“Um, do you think that thing is alive?” the largest one, a human, said. “It’s not moving anymore.”

“Why don’t you go check, Maggie?” the dwarf suggested sarcastically.

“Okay, sure!” the human said brightly, walking forward.

This had to be some mix up, Kravitz thought numbly. Maybe it wasn’t his face after all; it had been so long since he had last seen it, after all. With all the people there were in existence, it wasn’t unreasonable for him to come across someone who looked similar to him. This was probably nothing more than a slightly odd coincidence. And anyway, Kravitz still had a job to do, so he couldn’t waste more time on this.

Kravitz managed to brush away his stray thoughts just in time to focus on the human right in front of him, his hand held out to poke Kravitz.

“Yes, I am alive.” It wasn’t technically true, but it was easier than saying ‘Yes, I am an animate and sentient being.’

“Ahh!” the human yelped, jumping back.

“I think it’s alive,” the dwarf said unnecessarily.

“Well, hail and well met then, or whatever,” the elf said, giving Kravitz a little wave.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where a Lucas Miller is, would you?” the person who looked like him asked. His voice sounded close to what Kravitz thought his voice had been like, but he was less sure of that.

“Lucas Miller?” Kravitz asked, putting on a fake accent. He had been planning on using it earlier, but seeing the familiar face had made him forget about it when he announced himself. “What do you want with him?”

“We want to, uh…” The human scratched the bubble around his head sheepishly. “Shit, what exactly was our mission again?”

The elf shrugged. “Don’t look at me.”

“I think we’re supposed to detain him?” said the one who resembled Kravitz.

“Right!” the human said. “He, uh, broke the rules of the Bur—of an organization we work for. We have to save the world, arrest him, et cetera, et cetera.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Kravitz said. At least they weren’t working with Miller. He could probably categorize them as bystanders, though he wasn’t entirely sure he could dismiss them yet. For all he knew, their organization had helped Miller raise the dead and now wanted to detain him for totally unrelated reasons.

“You won’t let us save the world?!” the dwarf gasped incredulously. It was too exaggerated for Kravitz to believe the dwarf’s confusion was real, but then again, these adventurers had hardly shown themselves to be especially bright before now. “What kind of awful—“

“I can’t let you take Lucas Miller,” Kravitz clarified. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a scientist to take care of.”

He paused, waiting to see their next move. If they left this floating laboratory, Kravitz could go after Miller in peace. If not, he would have to deal with them first so they wouldn’t get in his way later on.

“Hey, wait a second,” the man who looked like Kravitz said. “We don’t know who you are. We can’t just hand Lucas over to you.”

Kravitz ran through his options. He could fight them, but while he would likely win, it might be very time consuming. He could talk to them, but he wasn’t sure if they would listen. He could ignore them, but then they might come back and screw something up.

He decided to go for the most interesting option and talk. If that went wrong, he could always fight them.

“And I don’t know who _you_ are,” Kravitz shot back. “How can _I_ trust you?”

“I’m Taako, you know, from TV?” the elf said.

Kravitz froze. He had no idea what TV was, but he did know Taako. It was a distinctive name, and Kravitz knew instantly who it probably belonged to. It had been over a decade since Taako’s name had appeared in Kravitz’s book, but with a bounty that big, he wasn’t going to forget it anytime soon. It looked like Kravitz would have to go with the fighting option.

The dwarf spoke up as Kravitz was realizing this. “I’m Merle, uh, Hitower? Highchurch? Yeah, Highchurch. Merle Highchurch.”

And now he knew there were two huge bounties in front of him, and one was Merle, the person with the highest number of deaths that Kravitz had ever seen in his _very_ long afterlife. This was a thousand times more interesting than any Candlenights party could ever be. The other reapers were going to be so jealous they had shouldered the task onto him.

Instead of attacking, Kravitz turned to the other two, waiting for them to introduce themselves. Maggie could very well be a nickname for Magnus, and he wanted to know exactly who he was up against before he started anything.

“Magnus Burnsides, at your service,” the human said, confirming his suspicions.

“And I’m Kravitz,” the last one said.

For a moment, Kravitz’s mind went blank. He had known the names of the eight bounties, and he had known one of them was the same as his. But he hadn’t expected that person to look so similar to himself. This had crossed the boundary from weird coincidence to something actually worthy of suspicion.

“What are you playing at?” Kravitz demanded his doppelganger.

The other Kravitz stared at him blankly. “Um, what?”

“You’ve taken my face _and_ my name? Who are you?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” his doppelganger said. “This is _my_ name and face!”

Magnus leaned in toward Taako, partially covering his mouth with his hand. “Ooh... this is a bit awkward... Should I point out that he doesn’t have a face?” he muttered.

The crystal body Kravitz was inhabiting didn’t have fully developed eyes, but if they did, Kravitz would have been rolling them. “This isn’t my actual body, you know.”

“Oh, geez, like that was super obvious?” Merle said. “You don’t have to be so sarcastic!”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his doppelganger said. From what Kravitz could see, he did look genuinely confused, but Kravitz knew better than to trust his bounties’ expressions. “I’m just a regular guy.”

Kravitz snorted. Given his doppelganger’s death count of twelve, this was a blatant lie. “Right. ‘Just a regular guy.’”

The stone of farspeech around Magnus’s neck crackled to life. “Hey, guys? What’s going on? We’re running on a time limit here!”

“Uh, we’re a bit busy right now!” Magnus said quickly. “Call you later!” He covered the stone with his hand, muffling the scolding coming from the other end.

“Was that Lucas Miller?” Kravitz demanded, though he wasn’t really looking for a response. “I knew you were working together!”

“Uh, no?” his doppelganger said. “I mean, we sort of have to work with him for the, you know, world-saving part of our mission. But since he’s the one that endangered it in the first place, we aren’t exactly best buds.”

“Lucas did what?” Kravitz asked sharply. He had only been called here to stop ghosts from escaping the Eternal Stockade and to get ahold of the person breaking them out. This was supposed to be a relatively small scale job, but if Miller was doing something big enough to destroy the world, that was much more serious.

“Look around you, my dude,” Taako said, gesturing with his umbrella. “Do you think all this is natural?”

Kravitz had to admit that spreading crystallization was hardly normal, but since it wasn’t really his jurisdiction, he hadn’t paid it much attention. It did seemed far beyond the capabilities of any human though. “Lucas did this?”

“Absolutely,” Taako said. “And if we don’t stop this base from sinking to the ground, the whole world’s going to look like this, so how about you let us go on our way and we continue this conversation at a different time?”

Taako didn’t appear to be lying, and his story was backed up with evidence. The floating lab was sinking, and the crystal had no reason to stop spreading when it hit the Earth, which would hardly be a good thing for the people down there. But Kravitz hadn’t gotten this far along in his career by believing everything that came out of his bounties’ mouths. He could always do the whole world saving thing afterwards. Besides, he was pretty sure he had seen something like this before, and the world was still more or less fine.

“Or how about we do it my way?” Kravitz said. And then he attacked.

 

* * *

 

It had been an incredibly long night for the Reclaimers.

First off was the socially awkward mess that was the Candlenights party (Kravitz often wished that he had his teammates’ ability to make absolute fools of themselves without a care in the world), and that was just the start to this endless night.

Only a couple hours had passed since then, and in that time Kravitz had been nearly killed more times than he could count by everything from giant tardigrades to a weird crystal creature that claimed to share a face and a name with him.

They had come across the latter a second time when he had caused Merle’s arm to crystallize, and then a third time after Lucas froze all of their protective suits.

That time, the creature had looked at Carey and Killian dismissing them as “off the naughty list”, but had lumped Noelle with the four Reclaimers as his bounties. The word “bounties” had puzzled Kravitz. With the voidfish erasing the full knowledge of the Reclaimers’ greatest deeds, and Noelle being a robot, Kravitz had no idea who would put a hit on them or for what purpose.

After they defeated the creature, they had caught up to Lucas in a strange room with a robot in a crystal stalactite, where they finally started getting some answers.

Kravitz couldn’t say he sympathized with Lucas’s reasons, but he figured that trying to bring back a dead loved one was better than just going power crazy. Considering the effect the other Relics had on the people near them, he was a little impressed that the Millers had held onto it as long as they had without anything getting out of control. It made him wonder how long the Millers could have kept it if Maureen hadn’t died or if Lucas hadn’t pulled her soul from the Astral Plane.

“So wait,” Taako said as soon as Lucas had finished his explanation, drawing out his vowels slightly in the way he did when he was playing dumb. He pointed at the stalactite that had crystallized around Maureen. “Who’s that again?”

Merle burst out laughing.

“You guys really aren’t that bright, are you?” a familiar cockney voice said.

All of them whirled around to see a man standing in the large sapphire mirror. If Kravitz was wearing different clothing and if he was close enough to the mirror for the angle to make sense, he might have briefly assumed that the man was his reflection.

“Hey, you really do look like me!” Kravitz could see that the resemblance wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty close. Even without the different clothing and hairstyle and everything, the other person’s facial features weren’t quite his. They were ever so slightly distorted, more like a similar-looking sibling than an exact duplicate.

“No duh,” the other man said.

Kravitz was starting to think the other man had been telling the truth when he said his name was also Kravitz. “Is there something I can call you other than Kravitz? Because that’s going to get confusing real fast.”

The man in the mirror thought about it. “I was called Keats once, a long time ago. But you’re going to have some other concerns on your mind soon, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“Oh!” Magnus exclaimed, Kravitz turned to see him staring at Keats intently. “You’re the—you’re Death! The Grim Reaper!”

“Congratulations,” Keats said sarcastically, clapping his hands together twice. “What gave it away? Was it the scythe? All the ghosts running around this place?” He looked Merle dead in the eye. “The fact that you’ve all died so many times?”

“What?” Taako said, his brow wrinkling up. So Kravitz hadn’t misheard the last bit. “Are you talking to us?”

“Am I talking— _Yes_ , I’m talking to you!”

Merle turned to face the other Reclaimers. “Is he— _have_ we died?”

“There was that one time…” Taako muttered.

“No, you were just unconscious,” Kravitz reminded him. He looked back at Keats. “Are you talking to _all_ of us?”

“Of course!” Keats said. “You know what you did, stop acting dumb!”

“We don’t _act_!” Merle protested. “We are one hundred percent, bonafide dumbasses.”

“Do we—? I don’t think we _do_ know what we did,” Magnus said, glancing between the other three Reclaimers as if they might have any answers. “I don’t remember dying.”

“Well that’s funny,” Keats said. “Because you’ve done it _nineteen times_.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Magnus said, his eyebrows creased in confusion. “You’d think I’d remember something like that!”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Keats shot back, clearly not believing a word.

“Uh...” Taako started. “Maybe—”

“And you, Taako, you said you were?” Keats said, pointing his scythe at him. He continued without waiting for an answer. “Eight! Eight times you’ve died! And you never stopped by to visit!”

“Is it possible,” Taako started slowly, “that you have me confused with someone else?” His words picked up their tempo. “Because I haven’t died, and if I did, it can’t have been more than a couple times.”

“Sure, sure,” Keats said, clearly not believing him. He turned to face Kravitz. “Now you not only have died fourteen times, you also have my face, voice, and name! Care to explain yourself?”

“If I knew the answer, I’d tell you,” Kravitz said honestly. “But I’m just as confused as you are. This is the face and name I’ve always had. Maybe you have _my_ face and name.”

“Ooh! Ooh! What about me?” Merle interrupted, a note of sarcasm coloring his tone. “How many times have I died?”

Keats looked over at him, sneering slightly. “Merle. Merle _fucking_ Highchurch. Care to take a guess?”

“Zero?” Merle tried. “A hundred?”

“Less than that,” Keats said.

“Forty-two?”

“ _Fifty-seven_ ,” Keats said, impatience dragging at his syllables in a way Kravitz recognized from his own voice. “ _Fifty-seven times_ , Merle! Fifty-seven! That’s gotta be like a record!”

“See, I knew I could make it into the Guinness Book of Records if I tried hard enough,” Merle said. “But it’d be nice if I actually knew what you were talking about.”

Magnus interrupted Keats mid-scoff. “So why exactly are you here, Mr. Death?”

“I’m not really Death,” Keats corrected. “I’m just— I suppose you would call me a reaper. I’m a bounty hunter for the Raven Queen. I track down souls that should be in the Astral Plane. And let me tell you, this laboratory is a veritable gold mine. You’ve got all the ghosts running around,” he waved his hand at the Maureen-bot and Noelle, “and then there’s you four.”

“With all our supposed deaths?” Kravitz asked.

“Precisely,” Keats said, with a threatening swing of his scythe. His face seemed to dissolve, skin and muscle disappearing until all that was left was skull. His hands were bone as well, though his suit remained as perfectly fitted as before. Kravitz suspected magic.

Behind Keats in the large mirror, Kravitz could see some commotion. It looked like something was forming, reaching out for Keats. Kravitz glanced at the other Reclaimers, wondering if they had noticed it too. Magnus caught his eye and gave him a tiny shrug, so Kravitz figured it was probably best not to interfere. It wasn’t like he cared much about Keats, especially since the guy seemed to be planning to kill him and his friends.

“If you wanted us to come with you, you should have stayed handsome,” Taako joked, and Kravitz felt a twinge in his stomach.

It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. It was just that it was kind of weird for someone you had a failed fling with to flirt with someone who looked remarkably like you. Anybody would feel awkward about it, Kravitz thought.

Too busy with trying to convince himself, Kravitz stopped paying attention to the conversation, only to be yanked back into the present when the ghost blob behind Keats attacked. Part of him felt frozen in horrified fascination, while the other part screamed at him to run.

“We’ll get the robots!” Carey shouted, and Kravitz realized that the pile of mechanical parts they had passed earlier was coming to life. Noelle jumped into action alongside Carey, fighting back against the swarm of spirit-possessed robots.

A bunch more ghosts were entering their plane through the sapphire disk, combining to form their own giant body. Kravitz pulled out his own weapon. He would have time to think of  weird lookalikes and failed relationships later. Now it was time to fight.

 

* * *

 

Once the battle was all over and he was free from the Legion’s grasp, Kravitz had to admit that his bounties seemed like pretty decent people, even his doppelganger. He wouldn’t break any the rules for them, but he figured that bending them a little wouldn’t hurt.

He even offered them a way to keep Noelle on the prime material plane in her robot body, letting slip his “gambling weakness.” Kravitz wasn’t personally a huge fan of those kinds of games, but it was traditional.

“Look,” his doppelganger said, once everything was sorted out. “I wish I did, but I really have no idea what’s going on with the shared name or all those deaths.”

“Yeah, alright,” Kravitz said. “I think I believe you now. But if you ever figure it out, let me know, okay? That’s one of my conditions on letting you four go.”

“Sure thing,” Taako said.

“I bet it’s going to end up being just a typo or something,” Magnus said. “A mix up of paperwork at the office, that sort of thing.”

“I hope so,” Kravitz said. There were only a few other possibilities Kravitz could think of, and none of them were any good. “Normally I don’t run into people a second time, but something tells me that I’ll be seeing a lot of you around.”

“Hopefully not too soon!” Magnus said.

Kravitz gave them a salute, then cut himself a doorway to the Astral Plane. He was going to have to come up with something really good to put in his report to explain this mess. Fortunately, although mistakes in the bounty book weren’t common, they did happen. Sometimes there were unusual circumstances that the book hadn’t been able to consider or it just simply messed up. There was precedent for changing the status of the bounties, so Kravitz managed to do it for these four pretty smoothly.

The people he met in Miller’s lab were off the bounty list, but Kravitz kept the other four. He didn’t want to cross them off without talking to them first, especially since he knew that Barry Bluejeans at least had committed more crimes than simply dying.

His afterlife settled back down after that. Kravitz busied himself with tracking down a few necromancers who were trying to use other people’s life forces to create a god, and months flew by in an instant.

In his free time, he puzzled over his interaction Barry Bluejeans just over half a year ago. Barry had appeared in his book at the same time the four in the laboratory had and had a similar crime. It seemed like there should be a connection, but no matter how much Kravitz looked into it, he came up with nothing

Things were relatively quiet for a while, which was nice because Kravitz had a lot of new things to consider. And when something big did show up, Kravitz knew instantly exactly who was behind it.

He received news of an entire town of people who had died hundreds of times, but nobody had known anything about it until just now because of some weird time thing. The information the Raven Queen had about the incident was jumbled and rather vague, but Kravitz didn’t think it was the fault of Taako, Magnus, Merle, and his doppelganger, even if he was sure they had to be involved. There was no one else who would be connected to such an unexplainable incident.

The Raven Queen told him to find out what really happened, so he headed to Refuge, hoping that his former bounties were there.

Kravitz arrived at the dusty plains just in time to see them and some other guy enter a weird spherical device. They hadn’t noticed him, so he watched as the sphere sprouted some kind of balloon shape above it and floated up to the sky, higher and higher until it seemed to reach one of the two moons.

 _Wasn’t there only one moon?_ Kravitz thought with a slight frown. Or maybe he hadn’t paid attention to the sky for so long that he had forgotten what was there and what wasn’t.

Then the sphere disappeared, and Kravitz could have sworn that it had gone inside of the moon, but that would be weird even for him. He would just have to investigate, he decided, slicing a doorway to the Astral Plane.

With only a bit of hesitation left over from his instincts as a once-living person that had needed to breathe air, Kravitz focused and cut himself a second portal to the moon.

To his surprise, it was a lot more habitable than he expected. There were brick paths connecting dome-shaped buildings, cutting across a neatly trimmed lawn. A couple people were walking around, and Kravitz saw a pair having a picnic dinner on one of the benches even though the late winter air was still a bit chilly.

If he looked to his left, Kravitz could see where the ground abruptly stopped, the edge of the field curving around in a large circle. This wasn’t a moon at all, he realized with a start. It was just a floating campus or base of some sort with the bottom made to look like a moon from far below. He wondered why nobody had noticed this, why the people who made this place put all the effort into a disguise that shouldn’t have been able fool anybody.

Adding the two questions onto his list of things to ask his former bounties, he slipped his scythe away and began walking towards one of the main buildings in the center.

“Excuse me?” he asked a passing human. This place seemed fairly large, but he wouldn’t be surprised if everybody knew everybody else. He would have to play this carefully, maybe pretend to be new. At least if anybody called him out on not belonging, he could always just leave and never see them again. Becoming a reaper had done wonders for his social anxiety.

“Oh, hello!” she said. “I’m sorry, I swear I’ve seen you before, but I can’t remember your name.”

“I’m pretty new,” Kravitz said, sidestepping her implied question. It would probably be best not to give any more details about himself, true or false, than was absolutely necessary. She was probably getting him mixed up with his doppelganger. “Do you know where, uh, Kravitz lives? He asked me to drop something off for him.”

The woman squinted at him a little, and Kravitz realized that bringing his doppelganger up might have been a mistake. “Are you his brother? You look quite similar.”

“It’s just a coincidence,” Kravitz said quickly. “No relation. You know what they say about there being six people in the world that look almost exactly like you.”

“Oh, okay,” the woman said, though she did not seem entirely convinced. “Well, he and the other Reclaimers live in the residential dome on the bottom floor all to themselves. Wonder what kind of special work we’d have to do get that kind of accomodations, right?”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said with a laugh, as if he could totally relate to her complaints. He hoped that this meant that the ‘Reclaimers’ were special, that they were the only ones who were so troublesome, not everybody in this entire organization. He could barely handle four of them, much less an entire moonbase full of them. “Thank you!”

“No problem,” she said, setting back on her original path to one of the smaller domes near the edge.

Kravitz headed onwards towards the middle where the bigger domes were. The air was a little thin this high up, but he could feel a breeze blowing past him. This definitely wasn’t a real moon far above the Earth’s atmosphere.

Above the doorway to each dome, there was a helpful little sign with the name of the building. It only took five minutes of Kravitz walking around and glancing at all the signs to figure out which one was the residential dome. Once inside, he took the elevator to the bottom floor.

There was only one door, just as the woman had said. It wasn’t hard to miss.

Kravitz knocked on the door, but there was no response. Given how the Reclaimers acted, he wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t heard him or simply didn’t feel like answering, so he tried the door. It was unlocked, but to his surprise, nobody was inside.

Without knowing where they could be at this time, he decided to wait on one of the couches for someone to come back. It was a bit creepy, he thought, but then again, he was a reaper. Creepy was basically in his job description. Plus he really needed some answers.

It was an uncomfortably long wait, and Kravitz was starting to seriously consider going back to the surface of the moon base to look around for them, when the door opened.

“—which was _not_ what I thought they said,” Kravitz heard his doppelganger say.

Taako giggled with the kind of looseness that came when someone was too tired to realize a joke wasn’t that funny. Both Taako and his doppelganger were facing each other, not yet noticing Kravitz’s presence. As Taako hung his cloak on the wall, his doppelganger turned forward, freezing in place.

“Oh,” his doppelganger said. “I guess we did sort of mess this one up.”

“Wha—” Taako started, his sentence dying off when he spotted Kravitz.

“Yep,” Kravitz said in his fake accent. “We need to talk.”

“This one’s on us,” Taako said.

“But only sort of,” his doppelganger said quickly. “It—we didn’t _try_ to break the laws of life and death or whatever.”

“I’m not here to drag you to the Astral Plane,” Kravitz promised. “I just need to know what happened at Refuge.”

“Well, sure, if you’ll hear us out,” Taako said, sitting on one of the couches across from Kravitz, his doppelganger following suit.

“So what exactly _were_ you doing in Refuge?” Kravitz asked.

“I guess we’re going to have to start by explaining our organization,” his doppelganger said. “First off, can you hear me when I say ‘Bureau of Balance’?” The last words were said with a slow deliberateness that made Kravitz think they were supposed to be significant.

“Bureau of Balance?” Kravitz repeated, not sure what was so important about the phrase.

“Oh, it must be like with Noelle,” Taako said.

“It sure makes things easier,” his doppelganger said.

“Makes what easier?” Kravitz asked, wondering what exactly he had in common with Noelle.

The two of them described the purpose of their organization and the voidfish that hid it. It answered Kravitz’s questions about the moonbase, plus it explained some of the weird stuff he had noticed from time to time in the past decade or so.

As someone who spent so much time around the dead, it was a bit embarrassing that he hadn’t pieced together that there was something out there blocking memories from the living. His excuse was that he mostly spent time with the criminals of the underworld, so he didn’t take anything they said without a grain of salt.

“So what does this have to do with Refuge?” Kravitz asked.

“The Relic we went after in Refuge was the temporal chalice,” his doppelganger said, going on to explain the time loop the whole town had been stuck in and how they had ended it.

“So what’s the verdict?” Taako asked, once he had finished.

The Raven Queen hadn’t assigned any bounties for this incident, so Kravitz had no real reason to go after them. The story the two of them told showed that all the deaths weren’t really the fault of anyone involved, and Istus had made it clear that the town of Refuge wasn’t supposed to be dead, so Kravitz was hardly going to dish out punishment on his own.

But before he could say any of that, a warbling voice came out of his pocket.

_“Another one bites the dust. Another one bites the dust. And another one gone, and ano—”_

“Sorry,” Kravitz said, fumbling to get his stone of farspeech out. “It’s the Raven Queen. I’ve gotta take this.”

He could hear the two of them chuckling in the background (“Of _course_ that’s his ringtone for her,” his doppelganger muttered), but he didn’t pay them any mind.

“Yes, my Lady?” he said, turning to face away from the other two.

“I have an important task for you,” she said, her voice coming through perfectly clear, even though the stone of farspeech normally warped sounds a bit.

“I’ll be there right away,” Kravitz said, and she hung up. He looked back to Taako and his doppelganger. “I’m sorry, can we continue this conversation another time? I have some important business to attend to.”

His doppelganger and Taako glanced at each other.

“Yeah, sure,” Taako said. “Wouldn’t want to keep you up.”

“Can we have some way to contact you?” his doppleganger asked.

Kravitz handed his stone of farspeech over, and his doppleganger quickly exchanged their frequencies.

“Thanks, and sorry again for leaving so soon,” Kravitz said, as he took back his stone. Feeling a little guilty for being so rude, he cut himself a portal back to the Astral Plane.

 

* * *

 

Keats hadn’t seemed like he was about drag anybody’s soul to ghost jail the night after the Refuge incident, but Kravitz still couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous about the whole thing. There was a lot of pressure on it, and neither him nor Taako were exactly what one might call diplomatic.

Days passed without any sign from Keats, and Kravitz felt anxiety clawing at him in every moment. As a reaper, Keats was probably very busy, and Kravitz didn’t like to impose, but he couldn’t handle the suspense any longer.

“Taako?” he asked one evening after a long training session. Magnus and Merle had already left for their rooms, but Taako had taken a little longer to put his equipment away. “It’s been a few days since we talked to Keats, do you think we should call him up?”

“Hmm...” Taako said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I hate to seem clingy, but this is important.”

That was all the encouragement Kravitz needed, so he pulled out his stone of farspeech and rang Keats’ frequency.

“Hello?” came the confused reply a few moments later.

“Hi, this is, uh, the other you I guess?” Kravitz said. It had seemed weird to introduce himself by his name to someone who shared it, but now he wished he had gone with that instead.

There was a beat. “Oh. I forgot to set up a second meeting, didn’t I.”

“You sure did,” Taako said, leaning in close so his voice could be picked up by the stone. His hair brushed against Kravitz’s shoulder, and Kravitz had to force himself not to stiffen.

“Sorry about that...” Keats said. “Time passes differently in the Astral Plane, and I sort of lost track of it. I’m mostly free for the next couple of days though, so I can come whatever time works with you.”

Kravitz glanced at Taako, trying not to stare at the pale strands of hair gently shifting against his black shirt every time Taako breathed. “Uh... would tomorrow evening work for both of you?”

“It works with me,” Keats said.

“Yeah, nothing but training for me to worry about,” Taako agreed.

“So where should we meet up?” Keats asked.

“Um...” Kravitz said, his mind blanking. He suddenly could not remember a single location that existed.

“The Bureau of Balance somewhere?” Taako suggested. “I mean, you can basically teleport anywhere, so there’s no reason we should go out of our way to see you.”

“Fair enough,” Keats said. “In the same place as last time or...?”

“No,” Kravitz said immediately. He didn’t exactly want to talk to someone privately in his living space when there was a chance they might reap his soul.

“Merle accidentally blew something up, so it’s a huge mess in there,” Taako added quickly. “Definitely should not be going there. What about the quads?”

The quads were the perfect place. As the evenings were starting to warm up, more and more people spent time outside, enjoying the fresh air. It would be quite public, but it was also large enough that they would be able to find a spot where nobody would overhear them.

“Okay, sounds good,” Keats said. “I’ll see you then. Is six thirty good?”

“Natch,” Taako said.

“See you later!” Kravitz said with what he hoped was the appropriate amount of enthusiasm as he hung up.

“Sounds like we’re going to have a busy day tomorrow, so I’m off to bed,” Taako announced.

“I’ll come back with you?” Kravitz said.

Taako gave him a look. “Well no duh. We live in the same place.”

Fighting the urge to blush even harder than he was before—Kravitz was lucky that the lighting was bad enough and that he was too dark for it to really show—he followed Taako back to the Reclaimers’ suite.

As terrifying as planning to meet a reaper was, he was glad the arranging part was done with. Keats had sounded very polite during the conversation, not at all like he was planning on hunting them down. Kravitz wasn’t someone who blindly followed instincts when a bit of caution could easily be mustered, but he felt like things were probably going to turn out alright with Keats.

He tried to hold onto that hope through the next day, as he practiced bard spells with Johann and worked out with Avi.

By the time training ended, Kravitz felt fuzzy with nerves, his stomach and limbs conspiring with all of the creeping doubts to make him feel like a trainwreck waiting to happen. This was hardly unusual though, so Kravitz forced himself to breathe deeply and did his best to ignore it.

Taako showed up in the quads almost immediately after Kravitz did, but there was no sign of Keats.

They found a seat at one of the benches and waited. Taako filled the air with the sort of chatter that was interesting enough to keep Kravitz’s anxiety from building up further but also unimportant enough that he didn’t feel bad if he zoned out for a moment or two by accident.

“So Angus basically proved that he’s the world’s biggest nerd, which I don’t know why I expected anything else, and—oh hey!” Taako stopped mid-story, and Kravitz looked up to see Keats. “Look who finally showed up!”

“Sorry for my lateness,” Keats said.

“It’s no problem,” Kravitz said.

“Speak for yourself,” Taako muttered, but he didn’t sound too annoyed.

“How’s it looking for the fate of our souls?” Kravitz asked, immediately regretting his own bluntness. He didn’t have to be in such a hurry to get to the point.

“Oh, no—that’s not even a consideration anymore,” Keats said. He sat down next to Kravitz on the bench. Without his scythe and cloak, he seemed very nonthreatening, like just another guy in a suit. “Sorry if I didn’t make that clear. I don’t have bounties on you or anybody involved in Refuge. Istus and the Raven Queen sorted that out. I just want answers.”

“You know as much as we do, basically,” Taako said. He turned to Kravitz. “Unless there’s anything we missed last time?”

“I mean, relic, time loop, purple worm, I’d say we got it covered,” Kravitz said.

“I didn’t just mean about Refuge,” Keats said quickly. “Just... in general. You’ve all bent so many rules, and Kravitz looks and sounds like me, and I’m just trying to understand.”

Taako shrugged. “I guess we’re just special. You’ve got to have those outliers right? The exceptions that prove the rules? That’s us.”

“Uh,” Keats said, and Kravitz could tell he wasn’t sure what to make of the answer. It was strange that even with the slight differences in their features, the way Keats’ face moved to form the expression was the exact same way Kravitz had felt his own features shift into countless times.

“I did promise I’d let you know if we figured anything out,” Kravitz reminded him. “Nothing's changed, unless Taako, you have any theories or anything?” He glanced over at him.

“I mean Istus did tell us we were unique.” Taako frowned. “What did she say exactly again? That there’s no one like us in all the multiverse?”

“Well, we know that’s untrue.” Kravitz gestured at his double with a small smile. “I think she said that there’s no one in the same role as us or doing the same thing we’re doing or something like that.”

“So basically, we’re special, and even the goddess of time and fate says so,” Taako concluded. “Doesn’t answer why, but it’s all we’ve got.”

Keats gave a wry smile. “I’ve spoken to Lady Istus before. I understand how cryptic she can be.”

“You have?” Taako asked.

“Yeah, she’s close friends with the Raven Queen.”

“It’s good that they aren’t enemies,” Kravitz said. “Now that we’re the emissaries of Istus, I wouldn’t want to be roped into a goddess-on-goddess battle where I fight my infinitely more powerful double.”

“To be fair, the four of you combined were enough to hold your own against me in Lucas's lab, though I suppose I was dragging the fight out more than strictly necessary.”

“Yeah, what was up with that?” Taako asked. “You totally didn’t need to fake being Pan and everything to reap our souls.”

Keats shrugged uncomfortably. “I was bored and I’m gay?”

Both Kravitz and Taako burst into laughter, and after a moment, even Keats broke his stone expression to grin. It was exactly the kind of answer Kravitz would have given if he had been in Keats’ place, but at this point, it wasn’t even that surprising.

“Once, when I was in the Neverwinter Orchestra—” Kravitz began, a related story in mind.

Keats jumped off the bench before Kravitz could say anything more, causing his heart to lurch. Within an instant, Keats’ face had melted into bone, the hood of his cloak growing over it. He now held a scythe in his outstretched hand. His head twisted left and right, frantically searching for something Kravitz could see no sign of.

“There—there’s something here!” Keats said.

“What are you talking about?” Taako asked.

“Something dead and powerful.” He stopped looking around, turning to face them. “I sensed it at the Miller Lab too. Are either of you harboring a dark spiritf? Do you have any suspicions of being some kind of vessel?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Kravitz said. He knew that Keats, as a reaper, probably had senses and instincts that he didn’t, but it still felt weird because he had no idea what was making Keats react so urgently. It was just a normal evening on the Bureau’s base to him.

“My umbrella eats dead dudes? Would that do it?” Taako tried, holding out his staff.

Keats shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s that.”

Kravitz frowned, searching through his memory for anything related to the undead. Other than Lucas’s lab and Keats, he didn’t think he had any connection with powerful forces that could mess with life and death.

Busy with his thoughts, he didn’t even notice Taako’s arm swinging up to point in Keats’ direction until he saw the alarmed look on Taako’s face.

“Taa—?” Kravitz started to say, right before Taako wrenched his arm upwards and shot a bolt of fire into the sky. “What are you doing?!”

“Wh-what was that?!” Keats yelped at the same time, jumping back.

“It wasn’t me!” Taako said. He threw the Umbra Staff to the ground and stared at it with wide eyes. “My staff’s trying to kill you!”

“What?” Keats asked, frowning. “That’s not—what? Can I see that?”

“Sure.” Taako carefully picked up the staff with a finger and a thumb and handed it to Keats, who turned it over in his hands.

“I don’t think—maybe your Umbra Staff is cursed, but whatever I sensed wasn’t some curse or anything. It was a lich. Are you a lich? No, I would know if you were.”

“Is it some other item we have?” Kravitz asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Keats said, shaking his head, skin growing back to cover his skull. “I’m going to have to look into this. I’m sorry, I had a nice time talking with you, but—”

“Yeah, we get it,” Taako said, waving his hand. “If almost being killed isn’t a good excuse to get out of a social interaction, what is?”

“It’s not—” Keats protested. “I really did have a nice evening, and if you ever want to chat in less pressured circumstances—”

“I’ll definitely call you,” Kravitz promised. It was only after he said that that he realized it was a bit weird to befriend someone who seemed like a different version of himself except also a grim reaper. Still, Kravitz was not one to turn down new opportunities for friendship, and Keats seemed pretty cool.

“Sorry for running out on you so soon again,” Keats said.

“It’s all good,” Taako said.

With one last guilty wave, Keats cut himself a portal and disappeared.

“Well,” Taako said into the empty air. “That ended up taking less of my evening than I expected.”

“Time to head back to our rooms?” Kravitz suggested.

Taako shrugged. “If you want, but I scheduled out at least three hours to argue over the fate of our souls and Refuge, and there’s about two hours to go.”

Kravitz got the feeling that Taako was trying to lead him to some point, but he couldn’t figure out what. “Is there something you want to do instead?” he tried slowly.

“There’s that new place on the base,” Taako said nonchalantly.

“Chug and Squeeze?” Kravitz asked. He had seen the advertisements hanging around everywhere for the past few weeks.

“Yeah, there,” Taako said. “I was thinking about trying it out. Wanna come with?”

“Oh!” Kravitz said, finally understanding where Taako was going with this. He knew Taako well enough to know this sort of casualness covered insecurities, which meant that Taako was invested in whether or not Kravitz joined him at the Chug and Squeeze. He was worried that Kravitz might say no. “Yeah, of course! I’d love to go with you!”

“Natch,” Taako said, as he stood up. “How are you at pottery?”

“Oh,” Kravitz said, shoulders slumping as he realized exactly what going to Chug and Squeeze with Taako would entail. “Very bad.”

“Well now you have me as your teacher,” Taako said, twirling the Umbra Staff around. “If Angus is anything to go by, I’m quite good at that. Plus I actually know something about pottery.”

“Then maybe this evening won’t end in a bill from the Chug and Squeeze for splattering clay all over the walls.”

“Has that happened to you before?” Taako asked, grinning.

“Yeah. A few years ago, I spent some time trying out different art forms,” Kravitz began. It was one of his more embarrassing memories, but with the gently amused way that Taako was looking at him, he didn’t even mind reliving it.

There was a warm contentedness to this evening as Kravitz told his tale, and it didn’t quite fill up the hole that had been eating away at his heart for the last decade but it was close. He had spend so much time spent trying to find meaning in his unfulfilling life, and here it was when he hadn’t even been looking for it. Who knew that all he needed was to hang out with a reaper who shared his face and name and a person he was a little bit in love with.

If he could go back to when he was the conductor of the Neverwinter Orchestra and tell his past self that this was how he would find some peace, he probably wouldn’t believe it, but the Kravitz of the present would have it no other way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a slight crossover with Discworld in this chapter because I couldn’t stop thinking about this idea since the San Francisco liveshow. No knowledge of Discworld is required, and this doesn’t really spoil anything in it either.  
> Warnings for a minor mental breakdown just past the halfway point of this chapter. I’m not sure if it’s worth the warning, but I figured better safe than sorry  
> And since I didn’t say this last chapter, thank you so much to starlightwalking for betaing! This really wouldn’t be nearly as good without your help. You’re the absolute best!

No amount of research or consideration gave Kravitz any hints as to what might have caused that lich presence he felt on the moonbase. It was very powerful and distinctly undead, but that was all he knew.

As weeks passed, it dropped lower and lower on his list of priorities. Kravitz had other duties to worry about, so he could only spend so much time working on one problem, especially when he had no leads. He had bounties to collect and an Eternal Stockade to keep an eye on.

He did, however, continue talking to his doppelganger. The first couple of times, it was partly to try to see if he could pick up anything else about the whole weird situation he and the other Reclaimers were in. Kravitz believed his doppleganger when he said he didn’t know anything, but there might have been something he missed that Kravitz would not. 

As their conversations continued, Kravitz found he genuinely enjoyed spending time with his doppleganger. He still kept an eye out for any clues that might lead him in a helpful direction, but most of the time he called just for good company.

It quickly became clear that the two Kravitzes shared more than just a name and face. Their personality, their interests, their weird little ticks were largely the same. Even their pasts held a lot in common. Both were raised by two adopted mothers, both had two older siblings—all with the same names—and both had left home to pursue an education in music. They even had the same dead name and the same reasons for choosing Kravitz as their real name, which Kravitz somehow found more unsettling than the fact they had the same face.

There were differences, of course, especially later on in their lives. His doppelganger had finished university (though he didn’t remember much of it), and became the conductor of the Neverwinter orchestra. Kravitz was forced to quit his schooling because of a deadly disease. His doppelganger’s siblings died soon after he graduated. Kravitz’s siblings lived, and they tried to keep him from dying, leading to his life as a reaper. 

As far as Kravitz could tell, they were actually two different versions of the same person, not just two people who shared a lot of characteristics.

“That doesn’t just happen, does it?” his doppelganger asked over the stone of farspeech, when Kravitz shared this conclusion. “People would know if different versions of the same person were running around all the time, right?”

“Even if mortals didn’t, the Raven Queen probably would, and she doesn’t know anything about it,” Kravitz said. He had learned that in a conversation that had been somewhat awkward on his part, since he had to talk to his goddess about befriending his former bounties. Thankfully, now that the Reclaimers were emissaries of Istus, there was no chance the Raven Queen would examine their case and decide that Kravitz had made a mistake by taking the four of them off the bounty list.

“Well, reincarnation’s a thing that some people believe in, right? Thought I guess it wouldn’t make sense in this case. I mean we're both existing at the same time, so we can’t share a soul, even if you were born centuries ago and aren’t technically living. Maybe time travel could be involved, but I feel like Istus would have said something.”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said. “I’ve already crossed that one off the list. Plus reincarnation doesn’t really work like that.”

There was a pause. “So wait, reincarnation really happens? I thought souls went to the Astral Plane when they died and that it was a crime to leave.”

Kravitz shrugged, then realized that it wouldn’t be visible to his doppelganger. He still wasn’t completely used to this relatively new technology. “Sort of. After a while, souls in the Astral Plane lose their individuality and sort of mesh together into soul goop. We... recycle it for lack of a better word. That way it doesn’t clutter up the place.”

“Okay, fun,” his doppelganger muttered. “I always wanted to know that after I die, my soul will be taken out of the afterlife like trash.”

“It doesn’t happen for a very long time,” Kravitz said, trying to be reassuring. “And when it does, it’s only because the soul has grown tired of existing as themself anyway.”

“That’s not as comforting as you think it is,” his doppelganger said. “But let’s get back to the point. Could it be some kind of powerful cloning spell?”

“That copied our families as well?” Kravitz asked. “And also sent you forward in time, or me back, so that we were born centuries apart?”

“Right...” his doppelganger said. “And there’s almost no way this is just some bizarre coincidence... I’m sorry. I have no ideas on why this could be happening.”

“I don’t either, so that’s fair,” Kravitz said, though part of his heart sank. He had been hoping that maybe his doppelganger would be able to offer a suggestion that couldn't immediately be ruled out. “Well... how are things going on the moonbase?”

“Um,” his doppelganger said, thrown off track by the change in topic only for a moment before launching into it. “You know how I mentioned that Taako wanted to check out that new bakery in Neverwinter with me?”

“Yes?” Kravitz responded cautiously. There was a frantic note of energy to the start of this topic that he didn’t trust.

“So we went, and it was basically a date? Like if we hadn’t agreed that things would not work out between us a few months ago, I would have said it was a date, but since we did, I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Please help me?”

Kravitz supposed he should have been relieved that whatever was going on was not related to breaking the laws of life or death or time or anything, but at least he knew how to deal with those. He wanted to help his doppelganger, but it had been so long since this kind of problem was of any relevance to him that he didn't even know where to start. 

When in doubt, Kravitz figured, the best place to begin was with gathering information. “I—what happened on your outing? Perhaps things have changed since you made that agreement?”

His doppelganger went on to explain their trip to the surface of Faerun, and Kravitz had to agree that it did sound very datelike.

“Do you want it to be a date?” Kravitz asked.

There was a pause. “Yes. I—I always wanted to date him really, but I’m just afraid of... well, everything, I guess.”

“I don’t know how I can help with that,” Kravitz said honestly. “If you want some encouraging words, I could try...” 

“No, I should really just talk to Taako,” his doppelganger said with a sigh. “Maybe the next time the Director gives us a day off.”

“There’s no better advice I could offer,” Kravitz said. “I wish you the best of luck though.”

“Thanks,” his doppelganger said. “I’ll probably need it.”

Then he hung up, and Kravitz turned back to researching his problem. He had already gone through all the obvious sources and leads, and they had led him nowhere. It was time to turn to the less obvious ones.

The first place he went was to visit Julia. When Magnus had first asked him to send her a message, he had pulled her from the sea of souls to give it to her, and ever since then, they had become friends. They enjoyed each other’s humor, and Kravitz found it nice to speak to someone who wasn’t a coworker and didn’t break the laws of the universe as much as the Reclaimers did.

Julia had only known Magnus, not Kravitz’s doppelganger or any of the other Reclaimers, but he was sure that it all had to be connected somehow. There had to be a reason Magnus and his doppelganger showed up in his bounty book at the same time with a similar crime.

“What can you tell me about your husband?” he asked Julia, once her soul had pulled itself out of the sea onto the shore surrounding the Stockade.

She raised an eyebrow. “What did he do this time?”

“Nothing,” Kravitz said. “It’s been quiet since that incident at Refuge. But I’ve been speaking to the other Kravitz more, and I have more questions than ever about the whole situation.”

“Like what?” she asked, and Kravitz launched in to an explanation.

“I don’t know how I can help,” Julia said. “Magnus came to Ravensroost right after the Relic Wars ended, and I barely know anything about his life before that. Maybe that lack of information says something?”

Kravitz frowned. “You didn’t find it suspicious that he said  _ nothing _ about his past?”

“It wasn’t like that! He wasn’t secretive, it just seemed like there wasn’t much to say. He grew up in a small village, then ended up leaving to find his place in the world. Some time passed, and he ended up in Ravensroost. There wasn’t anything about dying however many times or alternate versions of himself or whatever else you’re trying to find.”

“What was the name of the place he came from?” Kravitz asked.

“I...” Julia’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know... I must’ve forgotten it. Unless... do you think he never mentioned it? For someone so open, he sure is a mystery.”

“He really is,” Kravitz said. Part of him wondered why he was even bothering to track down the Reclaimers’ past. He had tried before, when their bounties were first put in the book, with no luck. Just because he knew their faces and one of their relatives didn’t mean it was going to be any easier now.

Kravitz stayed to chat a while longer, but eventually he left to continue his seemingly-fruitless search. As he expected, nothing showed up even after a couple weeks of looking. Even talking to the Reclaimers themselves led nowhere.

Magnus couldn’t remember the name of the village he was born. Taako described a New Elfington, but all of Kravitz’s research said that the city had never existed, even though Taako insisted he was telling the truth. Merle’s hometown did exist, and he also had many relatives, but when Kravitz asked them about Merle, they all shrugged and talked about some distant cousin that they only sort of knew. His doppelganger came from Westerfield, but there were about ten different towns with that name, and his doppelganger couldn’t point out which one it was.

Looking into the Reclaimers’ past was nothing but dead ends. Part of him was starting to think that maybe he should look to Taako’s student, the “World’s Greatest Detective” for some help, but no, Kravitz was sure there was some possibility he was overlooking, some connection he had missed.

What Kravitz needed was to clear his mind and think things through. If nothing turned up after that, then he would talk to Angus.

Normally, he would go find some low-energy bounty to chase after, some amateur cult or sloppy necromancer, but somehow there weren’t many open cases that day. Of the few things going on, none of it really caught his attention. It was just as well, Kravitz figured. Doing something not work-related was probably a better method of clearing his mind anyway.

Ever since Taako and his doppleganger had become a part of Kravitz’s life, he had picked up more knowledge of the world outside his job than he had for centuries. A year ago, Kravitz wouldn’t have had the faintest idea of what to do in the Material Plane. Now, he sorted through a dozen options and settled on spending some time at the bakery Taako had recommended before sneaking in to watch a performance of the orchestra his doppleganger used to direct.

A swing of his scythe later, Kravitz found that he had slightly miscalculated the time it was in Neverwinter. Instead of being early evening, it was mid-afternoon, which meant that there were still several hours before the concert began.

Kravitz sighed to himself. It was always hard to adjust to the passing of time when he mostly stayed in the Astral Plane.

Still, it was a nice day, so he decided to wander through the streets of Neverwinter and wait for night to come. It had been a long time since he had walked among the living like this, as if he were still one of them. Necromancers, being a secretive bunch, tended not to be found in busy places in broad daylight.

Kravitz glanced around, taking in the tall futuristic buildings, the uniform trees in straight lines along the edges of the road, the incredible range of people all going about their daily business. It was so different from the cities he had known when he was living, and this display of how much the world had changed in the meantime threw him off a little.

Being undead, Kravitz didn’t need to do things like blink. Still, it seemed like he must have closed his eyes for at least a fraction of a second, and then there was a young woman standing at the edge of his vision.

It wasn’t so much that she had suddenly appeared as much as it was that she had always been there and Kravitz simply hadn’t noticed until that moment. He flinched instinctively, but it only took a second for him to take in the long dark cloak and wild white hair with one streak of pure black. “Oh, Susan! Long time no see!”

Her solemn face broke into a brief smile. “I’ve been busy. Lessons to plan, children to manage, universes to save; you know how it is.”

“Your universe is in danger again?” Kravitz asked apprehensively. The first time he had met her was when some fantasy chain restaurants from Susan’s universe had started multiplying and crossing over dimensions to infect the whole multiverse. That had been a hassle to deal with, and Kravitz would prefer to avoid a second such incident if at all possible.

“Not anymore,” Susan said briskly. “What about you?”

“I’m not really doing anything right now. Just walking around.” He made a broad gesture at the city around him.

Susan followed the motion with her eyes, as if taking in her surroundings for the first time. She frowned slightly. “I thought you spent most of your time in the—the Astral Plane.”

“Um, well…” Kravitz scratched an ear. “I made a few friends and they reminded me of some of the stuff this world had to offer. So I thought I would go out and see some of it.”

Susan raised an eyebrow, giving Kravitz a searching glance that reminded him of the Raven Queen’s all-seeing stare. “You have friends? How long has it been since we last spoke?”

“About twenty years,” Kravitz said. Time passed differently between their two universes, he remembered. Which explained why Susan didn’t look as if she had aged much since Kravitz had last seen her, even though she was (mostly) human. “But this was a much more recent development.”

“I see,” Susan said.

“Things have certainly been more interesting with them around.” And it wasn’t just because of their company, but it seemed a little rude to jump into work complaints so soon in the conversation. They had been standing in the middle of the street for a long enough time that Kravitz was starting to feel awkward about it, so he began walking again. “How have you been? Is there an important reason for coming all this way or is it just a visit?” The past several times Susan had come had been just for the sake of some company, but first meetings made strong impressions.

“Granddad wanted to take a couple weeks off for vacation, so I’ve been filling in. I thought I might stop by and see you before I return to my normal life.”

“Getting the weird death stuff out of the way all at once?” Kravitz raised a teasing eyebrow.

Susan’s lips quirked upward. ”Something like that.”

“How is he anyway, your Grandfather?” It felt like the proper thing to ask.

“He’s Death,” Susan said simply, as if that was answer enough. Since in her universe, Death was more of an anthropomorphic personification of a process than a deity or reaper or anything else, Kravitz supposed that it was all the explanation he needed. But then she sighed. “He’s gotten even more cats now.”

“ _ More _ ?” Kravitz asked. He couldn’t remember how many Susan had said he had before, but he was sure it was a lot. Kravitz pictured a cloaked, scythe-carrying skeleton with cats perched on top his skull and shoulders, nestled inside his ribcage, with a dozen more swarming around his feet. It actually sounded kind of nice. Kravitz wondered if he should get a cat too.

“You can hardly set foot in his Domain anymore without stepping on one,” Susan said. “Sometimes I wonder if ‘crazy cat lady’ is another habit he’s picked up from humans.”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said, not entirely sure how to respond. Death from her universe was too different from his to really be able to say much.

The pair fell into a brief moment of silence, the natural pause between conversation topics. Kravitz continued to walk along the street, glancing around for something to inspire the next conversation. There were plenty of shops in this more tourist-y part of the city, but he didn’t see anything worth checking out until a sign caught his eye.

“How do you feel about sweets?” Kravitz asked. Susan was enough of a schoolteacher that he wasn’t sure whether or not he would be met with disapproval. “Because one of my friends recommended that bakery over there.” He pointed at the building a few steps ahead of them.

“I enjoy chocolate,” she said, turning to enter.

There was an awkward moment where Susan walked through the door instead of opening it. When Kravitz entered the bakery through the usual way, he found Susan looking back at him, a small frown on her face.

“Oh rats,” she said, avoiding any real swears with the kind of practice that came from having a large majority of social interactions be with young children. “You opened that door after I came in, didn’t you.”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said. “You just passed through.” He glanced around. The bakery was crowded enough that only a couple people nearby were giving them odd looks, and they quickly looked down almost as soon as Kravitz spotted them.

Susan sighed. “That’s what happens when you take over as Death for too long. You start forgetting how be normal.”

“I feel that,” Kravitz said stepping into line. Even though the Raven Queen and the other reapers retained more qualities of the living than Death in Susan’s universe did, it had been so long since Kravitz had done regular living things. Other than the last time Susan had visited, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had stood in line to get food.

The disconnect between Kravitz and the life that living people held had only grown more apparent as he spent more and more time talking to the Reclaimers. He hadn’t even realized how much he had forgotten over the centuries.

“You only did the job for a couple weeks though, right?” Kravitz asked. “Such a short time makes that big of a difference?”

“Unfortunately,” Susan said. “It’s sort of hereditary for me, so it’s easy to slip into the role.”

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t born into death,” Kravitz said. “Other than in the way that all living things are, I mean.”

“You must have had a bigger adjustment period then,” Susan said.

They stepped into view of the cakes and pastries on display, and the conversation died down as the pressure to pick something before they got to the front of the line built. Kravitz took the opportunity to avoid answering. He couldn’t remember being a new reaper all that well. It had been too long ago.

They found a seat by the window, too distracted by their food to talk. Taako had been absolutely correct, Kravitz decided. This was the best bakery in all of existence.

“Huh,” Susan said eventually, her voice distant.

Kravitz looked over to see that her eyebrows were slightly furrowed as she stared out the window to the dark storm clouds gathering overhead. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just remembered something. Or rather premembered, I suppose.” A loose strand of her hair curled anxiously up the side of her face.

“What do you mean?” Kravitz asked.

“I remembered something that hasn’t happened yet,” Susan said. “Something black with streaks of color. A starving force of darkness descending onto the world.”

“What does that mean?”

Susan shrugged, her focus snapping back onto Kravitz. “Despite popular belief, being able to see the future is an almost useless ability. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if it hadn’t come so strongly.”

“It sounds ominous,” Kravitz said. He made a mental note to keep an eye out on things, to be on guard for whatever threat Susan’s vision could be referring to. The familiar feeling of anxiety creeped into his lungs, even though they hadn’t been functioning for centuries. This warning was just specific enough to make him genuinely worried without letting him be able to make anything but the vaguest of preparations.

“But hardly helpful. Unless this rings any bells for you.”

“Nope,” Kravitz said. “There’s been lots of stuff going on recently, but nothing about a ‘force of darkness’ or anything even remotely related.”

“It’ll turn up eventually,” Susan muttered darkly. “I don’t even know if it’s for your world or mine.”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said. It wasn’t that he wanted her world to be attacked by some evil force, but also not having another thing to deal with would be nice. Preferably, this warning would end up being not as bad as it seemed, but he didn’t have a lot of confidence that it would be the case.

“What are the other things going on that you mentioned?” Susan asked. “Are you sure it has nothing to do with this?”

Kravitz was pretty sure, but he still described meeting the Reclaimers and his doppleganger, and how he had tried to figure out where they had come from and what exactly their deal was.

As he recounted his story, a realization struck him halfway through. He quickly wrapped up the bit about his doppelganger, then asked, “Actually—what do you know about other universes?”

“Well,” Susan said. “I know that there are a lot of them, but I’ve only visited this one and my own, if you don’t count a couple pocket dimensions and alternate timelines. So I couldn’t tell you a lot about it. Why?”

“I was thinking, our worlds are really different, right? But there’s similarities. We both have dwarves and trees and magic and Death, even if it isn’t all exactly the same. And there’s stuff like Candlenights. You have a holiday that’s pretty much the same right? During winter? Hogs... uh...”

“Hogswatch?” Susan asked.

“Yeah, that. And we have a guy called Santa Claus who is almost the exact same person as your Hogfather. Do you think the other Kravitz might be a version of me from another universe?”

“Hmm...” Susan considered it. “The Hogfather isn’t a  _ person _ , precisely. He never had parents or anything. He’s an old god who was shaped by belief from a changing society into the form he is today. Belief is easier to guide than genetics, but I suppose your doppelganger coming from a different universe could be possible.”

“I just don’t know how that could have happened,” Kravitz said. “Travelling between universes isn’t exactly easy, and I’m sure that if my doppelganger knew he came from another universe he would have brought it up before. At least, he wouldn’t have sent me on a wild goose chase trying to find his home town. I don’t even know how he would go to another universe.”

“I can do it because death is universal,” Susan said. “But I suppose your connection to death wouldn’t transfer to him.”

“I can’t see how it would,” Kravitz said. As far as he knew, the only connection his doppleganger had with death was his supposed death count. “It would explain why none of the Reclaimers seem to come from places that actually exist though.”

“Could it be the same incident that first brought me to your universe?” Susan asked. “With the chain restaurants?”

“That was over sixty years ago,” Kravitz said. “The other me can’t be older than thirty five or so.”

“You could just ask him if he’s ever travelled between universes or noticed a major change in the world around him or something like that.”

“It sounds like a good place to start at least,” Kravitz said. “I’ll bring it up the next time we talk.” He wasn’t sure what he would do with the information, if he found out that his doppleganger really did come from another universe. He would just have to make sure that it was nothing too threatening.

 

* * *

Between all the training the Director was making the Reclaimers do and all the mixed signals he was receiving from Taako, Kravitz didn’t have much brain energy to devote to the mystery of his existence. He genuinely  _ was _ curious why there was another person who shared his name and face and personality, but he simply didn’t have much time to think about it.

It made him a little guilty whenever Keats asked him if he had any ideas and Kravitz had nothing to say, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

“So about the whole alternate versions of the same person thing,” Keats began over the stone of farspeech one afternoon when Kravitz was taking a break from bard training.

Kravitz steeled himself to admit once again that he hadn’t thought of any relevant details of his life, that he hadn’t found some possible explanation in one of the Bureau’s books, that none of the other Reclaimers had any brilliant new ideas.

“I think I have an idea,” Keats continued, and Kravitz nearly sighed in relief.

“You do? That’s great! What is it?” 

“I don’t know if it holds any weight. And it is a bit far-fetched, but it might be possible that—” The rest of Keats’ sentence was drowned out by oddly familiar static.

A chill went down Kravitz’s spine, and he shuddered involuntarily, unsure what had caused this strange reaction. It reminded him of talking to Killian and Magic Brian before he had been inoculated, but that didn’t make sense because the voidfish’s powers weren’t selective like that. Maybe the stone of farspeech connection was just really bad. Not everything was a conspiracy. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said—” Keats began before he spoke static again.

“I—all I can hear is static,” Kravitz said, a tight sense of unease spreading through his chest.

“You—what?” Keats asked.

“Static!” Kravitz repeated. “Like with the voidfish! But I don’t understand how that could possibly be happening…”

There was a moment of silence from the other end. “I think I should talk to you about this in person. Is now a good time or…?”

Kravitz glanced at the clock hanging above the door to his practice room. Ever since the training had gotten more intense, it had grown harder to skip out on it. The Director would send someone to check on him at some point, but he didn’t think that would happen for a bit. She was very good at sending someone to urge him to continue just a little longer at the exact moment he felt tired enough to call it a day. “Sure, as long as it doesn’t take too long.”

“Alright,” Keats said.

A moment later, Kravitz heard the tearing of the fabric of spacetime, and then Keats stepped into view. He had his scythe out, but he slipped it away as soon as the rift closed behind him.

“Hi, that was fast,” Kravitz said, trying to stifle the instinct to exchange polite greetings. They had already gone through all that when they first started talking over the stone. Being physically in the same space shouldn’t reset the conversation, but old habits were hard to shake off.

Keats ignored that. “So just to be clear, you can’t hear me when I say that I think—” Again, his words faded into static.

“Nope.” Kravitz shook his head. Something was very wrong, and now that this was in person, now that this was real, it felt three times more ominous. His heart tightened, and he could suddenly feel the pulse of blood rushing through his fingers like the steady tick of a metronome.

“You said that dead people are immune to the voidfish, but living people aren’t unless they’ve been inoculated, correct?” Keats asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, but I’ve already been inoculated, so I shouldn’t be hearing static!”

“Then that would mean there’s—” Keats began before he was cut off by more static. “Wouldn’t it?”

“I couldn’t hear that either,” Kravitz said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the panic rising into his chest.

Keats paused. “I said, maybe there’s another—maybe there’s something else blocking you from understanding what I’m saying. Something similar to the voidfish. Could you understand that?”

Kravitz nodded.

“Then… if someone is trying to block people from reaching the conclusions I’ve drawn, that means—”

“That means that you must be on the right track, right?” Which meant that apparently there was a secret to Kravitz’s existence that was so important that someone had gone through the effort of blocking it from his mind. That couldn’t possibly mean anything good.

“Yeah. Or at least an important track of some sort,” Keats said.

“But who? And why? Do you think I could unknowingly be in danger? Or would knowing it put me in more danger?” His words picked up tempo alongside his heart rate as all the dangerous possibilities he could think of and all those he couldn’t comprehend weighed down on him.

“I don’t know,” Keats said. He hesitantly put a reassuring hand on Kravitz’s shoulder. “But I’m going to find out, okay? Whatever is stopping you from hearing it isn’t stopping me from thinking it. It’s actually a helpful hint, if you think about it.”

“Right,” Kravitz said, though that didn’t really bring him much comfort. If their assumptions were correct, then Kravitz couldn’t know the answer to this mystery. He wasn’t the most inquisitive of people, but that impossibility frustrated him. Not only that, he had to rely solely on Keats to tell him if this secret put him in any danger and what to do to avoid it. He didn’t think Keats would do anything intentionally to harm him, but people made mistakes, and Kravitz hated working without all the information.

“I’ll try to tell you as much as I can,” Keats promised.

“I trust you,” Kravitz said, and it was mostly true. Of all people to be in that position, he was glad it was Keats, even though he hated the whole situation in general. “Is there someway around the static? You gave me two theories, right? One for why there’s two of us and then another for why I can’t hear you. You said the second one a different way, and I understood that.”

“The second version wasn’t as specific, but I suppose it’s better than nothing. Maybe I just have to be vague enough for you to hear it.”

“Try it with the first thing you said,” Kravitz said.

Keats tried saying words a number of times, but Kravitz could never hear anything but static. After a few minutes of this, Keats sighed. “I don’t think I can say this any vaguer and still get the point across.”

“There has to be something!”

“I think you came from another place,” Keats said, deadpan.

“I understood that, but ‘another place’ doesn’t mean anything! We both know I wasn’t born here on this fake moon!” It wasn’t fair to take his irritation out on Keats who was trying his best, but Kravitz couldn’t stop the frustration from leaking into his  voice.

“Not a different place from the moon,” Keats corrected. “A different place from this world.”

The words didn’t sound like static to Kravitz’s ears, but they still didn’t make any sense. He knew that the concepts weren’t difficult ones. He could understand being from a different place than where he was now. He could understand the ideas of worlds beyond his own. But every time he tried to put those concepts together, his mind lost their grasp on the ideas.

“I could hear what you said,” Kravitz said. “But it—it’s like trying to add one plus one, except every time you do, the numbers repel each other like two magnets with the same charge.”

Keats buried his face into his hands and let out a frustrated groan. “If that doesn’t work, nothing will.”

“Oh,” Kravitz said, his heart sinking. It seemed like the problem was more in his brain than it was in the words Keats was saying, which meant that understanding him would truly be impossible.

“But I’ll keep thinking about ways I might be able to get around it,” Keats added quickly, dropping his hands. “Just in case.”

“We both know it probably won’t work, but I appreciate it,” Kravitz said. “Maybe you should try telling me other ideas and see if I can understand them or not.”

“Um… Okay, are you significantly older than you look?” Keats asked.

“No, I don’t think so? I think I’m thirty-two.” Kravitz was pretty sure he looked more or less that age. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I had a theory, but you’d have to be at least sixty years old, so I guess that’s not true.” He suddenly frowned. “Wait, that’s not how this static works—what if I said it as a statement instead of a question? Kravitz, you are—"

“I heard static!” Kravitz said. Again, there was that feeling of having concepts that should fit together, but for some reason didn’t. If Keats had just changed his question into a statement, Kravitz should be able to understand what was said, but his mind rejected the natural conclusion.

“Oh. Maybe my theory is right?”

“What theory?” Kravitz asked, even though he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to understand most of it.

“There was this event a few decades ago. Some universes got tangled up, creating weak spots in the walls that normally separate them, allowing people and things to pass through. My friend Susan was one of them, coming from a disc-shaped world carried by a turtle floating through space.” He paused, raising an eyebrow.

“I got that,” Kravitz said. “Is all of that really true?”

“Yeah, but it’s a long story,” Keats said. He frowned. “When you couldn’t understand the first thing I said, I thought this might be the explanation… but I guess not.”

“Got any other theories?”

Keats opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the practice room door.

Instinctively, Kravitz’s hands flew to his bow and the handle of the violin that rested on his lap. He usually went with his voice as his bardic instrument, but the Director had insisted that he honed his skills in something else too in case his voice was ever taken away.

“Who—?” Keats began, glancing at the door and then back at Kravitz.

He wanted to explain that it was probably just Johann or someone, checking in to see how his training was going along and maybe take part in it. But before he could, the door swung open to reveal the Director herself. 

“Hey, Krav—” she began before halting. She frowned. “Why are there two of you?”

“Oh! I—uh,” Kravitz started, jumping up to his feet. His mind scrambled to think of any excuse, but he knew that his behavior already appeared very guilty, and he didn’t know how to counter that. It didn’t help that Keats had also turned to him, clearly counting on him to figure out a good explanation. “Uh…well…uh...”

The Director finally rescued him from trying to attach a coherent sentence to the end of his long moment of stuttering. She narrowed her eyes at Keats. “So you’re the mysterious Kravitz look-alike I’ve been hearing about. You aren’t a clone or duplicate or anything, are you?”

“Um, no, ma’am,” Keats said.

“Kravitz, did you bring someone who is not associated with the Bureau up to our base?” Her voice was even, but it still sent chills up Kravitz’s spine.

“Uh…” Kravitz looked down, unable to meet her gaze.

“Please just tell me the truth,” she said, her tone softening. “I’m not looking for a reason to get you in trouble, I just want to ensure the safety of this organization and those who work for it, including you.”

With no convenient lie coming to mind, Kravitz decided he had no choice but to tell the truth. “I, yeah. He isn’t from the Bureau. We met him—he’s that reaper we mentioned. From the Miller labs.”

“The one that was trying to kill you and the other Reclaimers?” the Director demanded. Kravitz glanced up for a second to see her fingers tightly curled around the staff she always carried.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” Keats said quickly. “I have zero intentions of dragging them to the Astral Plane.”

“I see,” she said, relaxing slightly.

“They’re off the list completely now,” he added.

“That’s good to hear,” the Director said. “Though I don’t think anyone ever explained why you were after them in the first place.”

Keats shrugged. “My book of bounties said they committed some crimes against the Raven Queen, but it’s clear now that they didn’t. Probably a mix up of paperwork.”

Nothing Keats had said before then had indicated he thought their death counts were such a simple mistake. Especially with of all the similarities Kravitz shared with him, Keats seemed to think that something more sinister was going on, and Kravitz didn’t know why he was lying now. He looked up at Keats to try and see if he could pick up any clue in his body language, but as he did, he glimpsed the Director’s face.

She was staring at Keats, and there was off about her expression. Kravitz couldn’t describe what wasn’t right about it, but whatever it was, it tugged a suspicious coil into his stomach.

“I’m glad it was easily settled then,” the Director said smoothly. “But what are you doing here now?”

“We were just chatting,” Kravitz said, before Keats could say anything. “It turns out that we make good friends when we aren’t trying to kill each other.”

“I see.” The Director looked at Kravitz. “Forming connections is good, but please don’t let it cut into your training time.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to distract him from important work,” Keats said, standing up. “I’ll be leaving then.”

“I don’t think I caught your name,” the Director said.

“Oh!” Keats reached his hand out to shake hers. “I’m called Kravitz too. Funny coincidence, right? What about you?”

The Director took a step back, her eyes wide. “You—you’re Kravitz?” Her expression wasn’t surprise or confusion at the weird coincidence like Kravitz thought it would be. Instead it was something far more worried. She looked like she knew something, and Kravitz couldn’t fathom what it might be.

“Yeah. And who are you?” Keats asked, his polite smile dropping.

Kravitz glanced between the two, the concern in his stomach growing. He trusted the Director as much as he trusted anybody, but her behavior was growing more and more suspicious by the minute. Something was terribly off, and he realized with a sinking heart that he was starting to think she was hiding something important.

“I—” The Director’s face turned blank. “You can call me the Director. I run the Bureau of Balance.”

“You’re the one who set up this whole organization?” Keats asked.

“Yes. I did.”

The Director and Keats stared at each other with a tension that reminded Kravitz of an interrogation.

Then Keats relaxed his shoulders ever so slightly, and the tension broke. “It seems like you’re doing good work.”

“Thank you,” the Director said, her grip on the staff loosening. “I’ve heard of the kinds of things reapers put a stop to, cults and out-of-control liches and such, and I appreciate it.”

“Well, somebody’s gotta do it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you and Kravitz—the other Kravitz—talking about before I came in?” There was an odd note in her voice that harmonized perfectly with the strange expressions she had been making throughout this conversation. Kravitz still didn’t know what exactly what about it was setting off tiny alarm bells in his head, but he knew that her question wasn’t simple curiosity.

Keats spoke before Kravitz could jump in with some innocuous-sounding lie. “I was saying that I thought he might be—” Static spewed out of his mouth.

Kravitz glanced at the Director, expecting her to be puzzled and concerned at this evidence that somebody else had similar ways of removing information as she did.

Instead, she froze. “Why—” The word came out choked and raspy. She cleared her throat. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, I was born centuries ago,” Keats explained. His voice was calm, but there was a worrying glint in his eye. “I wondered if we might be long lost twins or something because we’re so similar, but I guess that theory is a bit out there.”

“Yes, it is,” the Director said firmly. “I—I have some duties I must see to.” She looked at Kravitz. “I expect you to get back to your training immediately.” And with that, she left the practice room, the door clicking shut behind her.

Kravitz stared at it for a long moment, trying to make sense of the jumbled ideas in his mind. It was a different sort of confusion from when Keats had said two concepts that he could understand separately but not together. It felt more like he was starting to see a truth that he didn’t want to believe.

“You… you heard static, right?” Keats asked eventually. “When I was talking to the Director?”

Kravitz nodded numbly, slumping back into his chair.

“But she heard what I said.”

“I—what does that mean?” Kravitz asked, dreading the answer he knew was going to come from Keats mouth.

“I think it means that whatever knowledge is being hidden from you, she has something to do with it.”

“What if it’s just coincidence? What if there’s some other reason that she understood, and she has nothing to do with the reason I keep hearing static?” Kravitz knew he was grasping for straws, but he couldn’t just accept the implications that came with the Director being the one to cover up this knowledge.

“I... It’s not impossible,” Keats said. “But we both saw the way she acted in that conversation. We both know what’s the most likely option.”

And Kravitz did know. He sighed and buried his hands in his face, nausea twisting up in his stomach. He had known the Director for less than a year, but something about her made him instinctively want to trust her and like her. The possibility that she had taken away something so big from him made Kravitz feel like the world was turning on its head. How could she possibly do something like that?

The room seemed to be closing down on him until he could barely breathe, panic and confusion swirling dangerously in his mind. Nothing seemed to fit together anymore. If the Director was lying about this, then what else? If not her, who else could he trust?

“Hey—Kravitz,” Keats said softly. Some part of Kravitz that didn’t feel like drowning noticed the weird hesitation. It was the first time Keats had called him by his name. “Look at me.”

Two hands landed gently on his shoulders, like a life raft. Kravitz opened his eyes to darkness, streaks of light sneaking in from between the cracks of his fingers.

“I—Just—” The words choked up in his throat. He felt scattered, lost within the universe, and he couldn’t pull himself together enough to make himself coherent.

“I’m going to sing a song,” Keats said, his voice steady and gentle. “If that’s not helpful, just stop me, but I welcome you to join me if you’re up for it.”

He started singing an old folk song that Kravitz remembered his mother singing to him on warm summer nights while his other mother stummed along on her lute. The words and tune were as familiar as his own name. Kravitz wondered if this was what his voice sounded like to everyone else.

He listened as his heartbeat ticked away the measures, and after a couple verses, he lifted his head. Keat’s eyes glanced down at him, but he continued singing. After another bit, Kravitz joined in, feeling still too shaky to attempt any harmonies.

Once the song came to an end, Keats let go of him. “You okay?”

Kravitz nodded. He still felt wildly adrift in a world where he couldn’t even trust the person he respected most, but at least the weight of that was no longer crushing him. “Thanks. That helped.”

Keats smiled and took a step back. “Who better to comfort you than your own self? This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me as often now that I’m dead, but still.”

“I just—I don’t want to believe the Director’s evil.”

“We still don’t know the whole story,” Keats said. “I promise I’ll keep looking into it, and I’ll tell you everything I can. There’s some explanation out there that’ll make everything make sense.”

“Thanks,” Kravitz said, even though part of him dreaded learning anything more about the Director. At least now while he had no proof beyond vaguely suspicious behavior he could remain in denial about it if he wanted to.

“I think I’m going to try to chase down these new leads,” Keats said. He looked carefully at Kravitz. “Unless, do you want me to stick around a little longer?”

“No, it’s fine.” Kravitz took a deep breath. So what if the Director was hiding something major from them? It could mean that his whole job as a Reclaimer was a lie, it could mean his existence was fake, it could mean a lot of things. But there wasn’t really anything he could do about that now except keep an eye open for anything weird and try not to let on that he knew something he shouldn’t.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I should really get back to practicing anyway.” Kravitz picked up the violin, tucking it under his chin. He hoped that Keats was similar enough to him to realize that Kravitz wasn’t just trying to deal with this by himself out of some misplaced idea of what strength was, that he actually just wanted to be alone.

“Okay, well if you ever need anything or think of something important, just give me a call.” Keats materialized his scythe.

“I will,” Kravitz said. “Thanks for all your help. I hope you figure some stuff out.”

“Yeah, me too,” Keats said, one side of his mouth twisting up. “See you around.” Then he swung his scythe and walked back into the Astral Plane.

Kravitz sat there in the quiet for a minute before he sighed and raised his bow. He spent the rest of the afternoon practicing quick, frantic songs that matched the pulsing in his ears until his fingers were numb and he could barely keep his arms lifted.

When he emerged from the practice room, he felt like a different person than the one that had entered it. Between exhaustion and life changing revelations, a lot had changed for him.

As he stumbled his way back to his rooms, he checked his stone of farspeech. There was a message from Taako on it, reading,  _ u still up for dinner tonight? _

“Oh shit,” Kravitz said out loud to the empty air. With all his worries about the Director and his own existence, he had forgotten about normal things like eating and plans to hang out with friends.

_ Yes _ , he typed back. After the day he had, it would be nice to just spend time with someone he liked. Even the confusion that swamped Kravitz about the exact nature of their relationship was relaxing compared to the existential questions that had been pressing down on him during his conversation with Keats. And Taako always made Kravitz feel better just by existing in his presence.

He only had a few minutes before his dinner with Taako, so Kravitz hurried to his room, changed into something nicer, and then rushed to one of the picnic tables where Taako was setting some of the better cafeteria food out.

“Sorry I’m late!” Kravitz called out as soon as he was within hearing distance.

Taako looked up, a small smile spreading across his face. Instantly, Kravitz heart lifted. He was still exhausted, but with Taako there, it became a softer sort of tired.

“I guess you’ll just have to stick around longer to make up for it,” Taako said.

“Sounds reasonable,” Kravitz said, grinning back. “What’s been going on for you?”

“Eh,” Taako waved the question off with one hand. “The real question is what is going on with Carey? You weren’t there at practice, but it was absolutely fucking wild...” He began recounting the story as Kravitz settled in to listen.

Kravitz would always love talking to Taako, and times like this where they spent hours learning more about each other’s lives and opinions and interests were some of his favorite moments.

But as the evening went on, Kravitz began to remember why spending time with Taako recently was giving him some anxiety. His assumption that having dealt with bigger concerns earlier today would make this problem easier to manage had been wrong. Sure, the two sets of issues weren’t at the same level, but one was much more directly relevant to him at the moment, and he couldn’t ignore it if he wanted to.

When Taako touched his hand for the fifth time that evening, Kravitz found that he couldn’t bear it anymore. He didn’t want to broach the subject, but he knew that he had to sometime, and there was no time like the present.

“Taako?” Kravitz asked, his heart beating in cut-time.

“‘Sup?”

“What—what exactly are we doing here? I thought we agreed that dating each other wasn’t a good idea? But this feels like a date, and—has something changed? Because I’m sort of lost right now.”

Taako drew back suddenly, eyes fixed on his glittery nails. “I—sorry—I thought....”

“No!” Kravitz said quickly, before Taako drew the wrong conclusions. “I’m not—I’m not saying I don’t like this. Because I do. I think... I think we’ve both changed a lot this past year, and if you want to try again, I think it might work. If, uh, you do want this, and I’m not just misreading the signals and—”

“Hell yeah,” Taako said, looking back up at Kravitz, a smirk pasted on his face. “That was my plan all along. Trick you into going on dates with me and show you what you were missing out on. No one can resist falling for the Taako Charms, TM.”

Dizzy relief flooded through Kravitz, and he let out a small laugh. “Oh good! I was worried...” Part of him said to hold back, to not reveal his whole hand yet, but what would even be the point of getting into a relationship if he couldn’t trust Taako with his thoughts and feelings? That might have been how it was once, but they had both grown from there. “I was worried you wouldn’t want me like that anymore.”

“I’m not sure I ever stopped,” Taako said quietly.

It had been Kravitz who had ended it before, he thought with a burst of guilt. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Taako said. “I was kind of a dick, and we clicked, but not like in a complete way. I mean, we did but we weren’t...” He trailed off, waving his hand helplessly.

“I know what you mean,” Kravitz said. “I... is it weird? I feel like I haven’t been myself for the past... I dunno. Decade or so. Like everything I do is just an imitation of myself. And it’s only been in the past couple months that I’ve been myself more.”

“Yes, that’s it exactly,” Taako said.

“I’ve always liked you,” Kravitz said, because he wanted to make this absolutely clear. “I just didn’t think this kind of relationship would have been fair to either of us back then.”

“And now?” There was hesitancy in Taako’s voice, a rare unguarded moment. Kravitz felt like something fragile and precious was resting in his hands.

“Are we... Can we be boyfriends?” The word felt weighted on his tongue, like a bomb that could explode in his face if used wrong, and for a moment his heart stopped from the fear that he had jumped too far too soon.

But Taako’s face melted into something softer, more genuine. “Yeah—if you’ll have me. Yeah.”

“Always,” Kravitz promised, reaching out so the tips of his fingers lay on the back of Taako’s hands. This touch didn’t feel hollow, like it sometimes had back when they first met. They were no longer two mock-people in a mock-relationship, but something far more real. What had been an empty melody was now a full orchestration, with harmonies, and counter melodies, and a bass line, growing into a fuller, richer version of itself.

Taako let out his breath. “Sweet.”

Kravitz was unable to stop a goofy grin from spreading across his face, and after a moment, even Taako stopped trying to hide his smile. The two of them sat there for a long moment, grinning foolishly at each other. It should have been awkward, Kravitz thought. Instead, he never wanted it to stop.

He remembered when Taako had flirted with him, back when they first met. This wasn’t wasn’t half as smooth, but somehow that made it more real. He much preferred this more open Taako.

“So.” Taako cleared his throat. “Are you going to finish eating the food I went through all the trouble of grabbing from the cafeteria?”

“Right,” Kravitz said, looking down at his plate. He took one of his hands back, so he could pick up the sandwich. “Thanks for that.”

Taako grabbed his other hand before he could move that too, so that their hands were linked, resting in the middle of the picnic table between them. “So what have you been up to between exhausting hours of training?”

Kravitz thought about all he had learned from Keats and the Director. He needed to tell Taako about all of it, but that could wait for a bit, he figured. This moment was too peaceful and nice to ruin with worries like that. “Well,” he began. “I was reading this book...”

 

* * *

There were four things Kravitz had learned from his most recent trip to the false moon: his doppleganger had come from another universe and was older than he appeared, there was a second voidfish, and the Director was somehow involved in all this.

Kravitz could tell that these were all pieces of an incredibly important puzzle, but he couldn’t see the picture they formed. What he needed was more information, clues as to how his doppleganger might have gotten to this universe and why someone (likely the Director) was going through so much effort to hide it.

Fortunately, Kravitz happened to know the leading expert in planar research.

It only took him a couple hours to track Lucas Miller down to a small house near Neverwinter. His lab had been deserted for awhile—since Candlenights, Kravitz assumed—but the Miller family had a few pieces of property scattered throughout the world, and from there, it wasn’t hard to figure out which one was currently being occupied.

Because this was a friendly visit, Kravitz teleported onto the front doorstep and politely rang the doorbell.

He waited nearly a full minute before Lucas answered it.

Lucas’s eyes widened the moment he saw Kravitz. “I haven’t done anything recently, I swear!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here for that,” Kravitz said. “I just wanted to ask you about your research into the worlds beyond this plane.”

“Oh,” Lucas said, though he still eyed Kravitz warily. “Are you the Kravitz that works for the Bureau, or are you the reaper?”

“The second one,” Kravitz said, feeling a little amused that Lucas had seemed so terrified despite not knowing which Kravitz he was talking to.

Lucas swallowed. “And you’re not here to reap me?” His voice came out squeakier than normal.

“I just want to know more about how the universe works,” Kravitz said smoothly. “You seemed like the guy to talk to.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely true,” Lucas said with a nervous laugh. “I  _ am  _ the lead researcher in the field. Do you want to come inside?”

“Sure,” Kravitz said, stepping in.

“So what exactly do you want to know?” Lucas asked, once they had seated themselves in front of a table covered in random pieces of crystal, machinery, and enough paper to make up at least three novels. Kravitz eyed the mess warily, remembering how Lucas had used a crystal to create a doorway to the Astral Plane and pull his mother out. He hoped that Lucas had learned from that, and that those papers wasn't more dangerous research.

“Just tell me what you know about the universe and the planes and everything.”

“Oh, uh, well, so to start off with, our solar system, the galaxy, the cluster, and everything you know is on this plane of existence, the Prime Material plane.” Lucas looked at Kravitz and scratched his ear sheepishly. “Or I guess not everything  _ you _ know. Um. This would be easier with my Cosmoscope. Anyway, there’s a bunch of other planes that make up our planar system.”

Lucas listed them off, but none of them seemed to describe Susan’s universe. Kravitz had already been pretty sure that the place Susan had come from wasn’t tied to Faerun in the same way that, say, the Astral Plane was, but now he was even more sure.

“Is there more than that? Are there other planar systems besides our own?” Kravitz asked.

Lucas fidgeted with the pen in his hand, clicking it on and off. “I, uh, well that’s going into theoretical territory. I think there are? Or at least I don’t see why we would be the only ones.”

“But you don’t know anything about them.” Kravitz’s heart sank. If there simply wasn’t information to be found about how travel between universes could occur, he had nothing to go off on.

“No, but there are hypotheses. Some people think there are alternate timelines, like the next universe over might be what happened if one atom was slightly off during the Big Bang, or if you chose not to become a reaper, or something like that. Other people think the other universes are entirely different, functioning with laws that we couldn’t even dream of here.”

“And could you travel to different universes? Hypothetically?”

Lucas shrugged. “Well it depends on which type of universe you’re talking about. The second kind? Probably not.”

“What about the alternate timelines one?”

“In that case, some people theorize that you’re entering a new universe every time you make a decision.”

That didn’t sound like the kind of travel that would bring Kravitz’s doppleganger into this universe where a version of himself already existed. He knew there had to be other methods of visiting universes; Susan had come to his and gone back to hers, multiples times. Most of the time, it had even been on purpose. He didn’t feel like explaining exactly how he had proof of successful interdimensional travel, especially since he didn’t know if any of it would be covered by static, so he just asked, “Are there any other ways of travelling?”

“Maybe?” Lucas said. “It could involve traveling in a dimensional direction that we don’t know about yet or wormholes or somehow going beyond the edge of our planar system. Which is theoretically impossible, but you have to consider all the impossibilities. Or if you manage to survive a black hole, some people think you might end up in a different universe.”

“But you don’t know anything concrete,” Kravitz said. With all the dead ends he was getting, it seemed that at this rate, his only new leads would come through random accidents.

“Not really.” Lucas smiled apologetically. “Understanding the multi-universe is mostly a thought experiment at this point. Anything that could actually bring someone to another planar system would have to be more powerful than all the Grand Relics combined.”

“I see,” Kravitz said, trying not to let his frustration show. It wasn’t Lucas’s fault that there was nothing to be learned. He stood up. “If you think of anything else, let me know.”

“Okay,” Lucas said. He hesitated for a moment then spoke again. “Why do you want to know this?”

“I don’t think I can physically tell you,” Kravitz said, but he decided to try anyway. “I think my doppleganger came from another universe.”

Lucas jumped out of his chair. “Was that—was that voidfish static?!”

“Stay out of trouble,” Kravitz said as he pulled out his scythe and left for the Astral Plane. If his exit was a bit more dramatic than necessary, well, Kravitz needed cheering up and Lucas was fun to scare. All this new information, and it didn’t even lead him anywhere helpful.

Over the next few months, Kravitz dropped in on universities, eavesdropping on discussions of quantum mechanics and parallel universe theories until he knew as much of the topic as his brain could handle. He talked to the Raven Queen, to other reapers, to his doppleganger and the other Reclaimers, to everyone he could think of.

Nothing turned up. The knowledge of interplanar system travel simply didn’t exist in this world.

This lead was a dead end, so Kravitz had no choice but to go with his other one: the Director. He hadn’t exactly avoided this one, because he had spent a bit of time on the Bureau of Balance headquarters in hopes of finding out exactly what connection the Director had to all of this. Unfortunately, that information wasn’t found lying around in the halls or other public areas, and the Director’s private quarters, where all the answers were most likely to be, was the most protected place on the base.

He had tried entering once, but there were wards that blocked even Reaper magic. Kravitz would be able to enter it, but only without any of his usual defenses. Searching the office would likely be incredibly risky, and he only wanted to do it as a last resort.

Now, with nearly every other option exhausted, Kravitz wondered if perhaps he should go for it anyway, despite the risks.

There were still souls in the Astral Plane that he could ask, part of him protested. They would be unaffected by either of the voidfish, and perhaps one of them might remember something relevant. Without any way of knowing who might know something about the Reclaimers’ lives or interplanar system travel, finding the right people would be nearly impossible, but he could still try.

Kravitz pictured himself pulling souls out of the sea at random, hoping to get one of the special few that might be able to add the smallest detail to his understanding of this mystery. His chest felt heavy just thinking about it.

There was no way he would rather deal with the boredom of speaking to billions of souls than face the Director. So confrontation it was then.

There were two ways to go about it, Kravitz figured. He could either speak to her directly or sneak into her private quarters and try to figure it out by himself. Under normal circumstances, Kravitz would have picked the second option. This time, he was afraid that if he did, the chance of him getting caught were far too high.

The Director was clearly both very powerful and secretive. She had a secret base on a moon that she had made everyone believe had always been there. Her private quarters were warded against reapers’ magic, a group that most people had no idea actually existed much less knew how to ward against.

If Kravitz tried to break into her office, without the use of all of his powers, he would undoubtedly face defenses he could not beat. Even if he enlisted the help of his doppleganger and his friends, Kravitz wasn’t sure they would be successful.

He sighed to himself. If he could surprise the Director by talking to her directly, maybe he could startle her into giving away more information. It looked like he was going to have to go with the infinitely more awkward option.

Kravitz waited a couple hours until evening came to the moonbase, then he materialized himself in her office.

It was currently unoccupied, so Kravitz took the opportunity to look around it. The room was clearly meant to impress, with a large oak desk and larger windows framed by thick curtains.

What caught Kravitz’s attention the most was the painting behind the desk. He could tell that there was an illusion spell on it, making it appear to be a portrait of the Director on a deep blue background that matched the color of the curtains.

But underneath that, with his true sight, Kravitz could see a different picture of eight people in red jackets and robes. The Director was in this version too, but she looked thirty years younger, and there was an openness to her expression that Kravitz had never seen on the Director in person. There were also the four Reclaimers and a gnome that he had seen a couple times around the moonbase. Magnus, the gnome and his doppleganger looked about ten years younger than they did now, contrary to the Director’s appearance. 

Kravitz might have assumed this to be a Bureau of Balance portrait, but he knew the Reclaimers hadn’t joined until some time last year, and there would be no reason to hide it if that were the case. Besides, there were two others in the picture that he had never seen before, one a bland looking human man, and the other an elf so similar to Taako that they had to be related.

Nothing Kravitz knew could explain why this picture existed. It was another mystery surrounding the Director and the Reclaimers, he supposed. He took a seat in one of the arm chairs near the back of the room and waited.

The last time he had done something like this had been in the Reclaimers’ room, and the creepily waiting part had sort of been an accident. This time, he had planned for it to give him as much of an upper hand as possible. 

He wore his nicest suit and his most stately red and gold jewelry. Covering his face in a hood wouldn’t have the desired effect, since he wanted the Director to know who he was, but he still wore the cloak, adjusting the black folds so that it draped dramatically around the chair he was in. He rested his scythe against one side of the chair, not holding it, but still keeping it within easy grabbing reach. He let a suggestion of bone creep into his face, just to remind the Director that he was not quite mortal.

Fortunately for Kravitz, being dead meant that he could sit still in one position for a long time without any of his limbs falling asleep or starting to ache. 

When the last traces of sunlight were receding from the window, the door slid open and the Director stepped in. Kravitz remained perfectly still, waiting for her to notice him before drawing attention to himself.

She didn’t even look in his direction as she flipped on the lights and sat down at her desk with a sigh. Even though she was facing Kravitz’s direction, her attention seemed to be so focused on the papers in her hand that she didn’t even glance up. It was only after a long moment that she set the papers down on the desk and immediately jerked her head up.

“Krav—no—what are you doing here?” she demanded, her eyes wide.

“I had a couple of questions,” he said smoothly.

“Um,” she said, her mouth forming the shape of a couple different sounds before finally settling on one. “You could always just schedule an appointment.”

“I can come back another time, if this doesn’t work for you.” Kravitz stood up from his chair, nudging his cloak back to make it billow behind him. “Just—I want to know, how did my doppleganger get to this planar system, and why are you using a second voidfish to keep it from him?”

The Director jolted up, her eyes darting to the back of her office for just an instant. “How could you possibly—?! Oh. You’re dead.”

“Yep,” Kravitz said. He hadn’t known for sure if all of his accusations were true, but judging on the reaction, it likely was.

“Fuck,” the Director muttered with a small groan. “Look—I can’t—Give me one week. Please. Just one more week, and this’ll all be over. I’ll tell you and Kravitz—the other one—everything.”

“I can’t—I can’t just take your word for it,” Kravitz said. One week was a lot of time to ruin lives or bury evidence or do any number of things that would defeat the purpose of his visit here.

The Director looked him square in the eye, her earlier franticness fading. “I swear to you that I have  _ nothing _ but the best intentions for the other Kravitz and this world. I would rather rip my heart from my chest than do  _ anything _ to hurt either one.”

Kravitz hadn’t survived this long by believing every person who came across his path, but there was something about the pain and determination in the Director’s stance that made him want to believe her. So instead of dismissing her words, he glanced down, unable to stand her heartfelt stare.

“Sometimes, the best intentions aren’t enough.” Kravitz knew  _ that _ from experience, what with his older siblings. “I’m not here to fight you or anything. I just want the truth.”

She smiled sadly. “The truth is long and complicated, and I’m not sure you could understand the actions that my family and I have taken unless you had lived through the experience yourself. This world is going to end soon, and right now, I’m the only one capable of stopping it. So I can’t risk you trying to stop me.”

“You mean because of the Grand Relics?” Kravitz asked, sitting back down. The last time someone had thrown him off his course by talking about saving the world, it had been because of one of the Grand Relics too. With Susan’s warning of something ominous coming, Kravitz thought he had better take this more seriously than he had with the Philosopher’s Stone.

“No.” The Director shook her head sharply. “It’s something far worse. It’s what the Grand Relics were created to stop.”

Kravitz frowned. His doppleganger and Taako had always made it seem like whoever created the Grand Relics had done it for kicks, but it made sense that they had a purpose. He had seen first hand the power of multiple Relics and all the destruction they left behind. Every single one of them individually had enough power to rival a god. If whatever threat needed all seven of them to be stopped, it had to be something more dangerous than Kravitz had ever faced.

But if the Relics were being destroyed, then what was going to stop whatever world-ending threat was approaching? The Bureau’s goal made no sense. Unless... “You haven’t been destroying the Relics, have you. You’re collecting them.”

“Yes.” The Director didn’t hesitate this time or show any sign of surprise at Kravitz reaching this conclusion.

Kravitz’s stomach sank. “How do I know you haven’t fallen under their thrall?” He wasn’t sure if he could trust anything she had done or said anymore. From what his doppleganger and Taako had said, the thrall was powerful enough to make even the best people do terrible things.

The Director raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t used any yet, have I? The Millers kept control of their Relic for a long time, but even they couldn’t manage not to use it. And unlike them, I live in a limited space with many other people who would definitely notice if I did anything with them.”

Kravitz didn’t know whether or not he could believe that, but he could always ask his doppleganger about how easy it would be to keep a secret like that on the moonbase. “You still haven’t answered my original question.”

“About the alternate version of you?”

Kravitz nodded. “And the second voidfish.”

“We travelled here in a ship,” the Director said quietly.

“‘We’?” Kravitz knew that it was likely that all the Reclaimers had crossed universes, and by extension, it was likely that the other four bounties with unnaturally high death counts had as well. He hadn’t known the Director was one of them, but it made sense if he thought about it. He wondered if it had anything to do with that painting behind her.

“Yes. I’m not from here either.”

Kravitz ran through the remaining three names of the people he hadn’t met. “Is your name Lucretia?” It was the only one that seemed to fit. Lup and Davenport didn’t seem regal enough.

“I presume you know from your list of bounties?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Kravitz said, deciding to take that as confirmation. He hadn’t removed her off his list of bounties, unlike the Reclaimers, but Kravitz figured that broaching that topic now wouldn’t benefit him in anyway, especially if she was telling the truth about being the only capable of saving the world. “Why do you say that?”

“You’re not the first reaper we’ve ran into.” She smiled faintly. “Though you are the only other Kravitz.”

He wanted to consider the implications of this a little longer, but this was just getting him sidetracked from his main point. “Why did you come here?”

“We were only meant to explore the other planes in our system,” the Director said. “But there was this force that warped the boundaries between the planar systems in an effort to consume them all. It chased us through a hundred planar systems, but we always managed to slip through to the next one, just barely ahead of it.”

“Is this the threat you mentioned earlier?” Kravitz asked, fervently hoping that it was not. A universe consuming force was far more frightening than whatever vague threat he had been imagining earlier. 

The Director nodded, and Kravitz suppressed a shiver. Suddenly the Grand Relics didn’t seem remotely powerful enough. He didn’t think lots of fire or even time travel would be enough to stop something that ate planar systems.

“And why is it that only you can remember any of this?” Kravitz asked.

“It was an accident,” the Director said quickly. “I’m trying to fix it, but first I must save the world.”

“Inoculation doesn’t work for this voidfish?” Kravitz asked, frowning.

“Not if you lose the voidfish,” the Director said smoothly, but there was something shifty in her eyes, and she didn’t seem like she was telling the truth. Kravitz didn’t think that pushing further right now would get him the answers he wanted, so he remained quiet. “Now I believe I’ve answered your question, so if you don’t mind...”

“Of course,” Kravitz said automatically, standing up. Her clear dismissal made her answer even more suspicious, and he wasn’t sure that he had learned all that much, but it would do for now. He would come back and investigate soon. “But if there’s anything about the whole world-ending thing that I could help with, please let me know.”

“There isn’t much. I would recommend staying on this plane for the next few days though,” the Director said.

It was an odd request, and Kravitz normally would assume it was a trap, but he couldn’t figure out how it would be. Being in the Astral Plane didn’t necessarily make him safer or give him more power or anything. There weren’t any advantages to keeping him in this plane of existence.

“But what exactly are you planning...” Kravitz faded off at the sharp look the Director gave him. He was pretty sure that she wasn’t going to give him anything more right now, no matter how hard he pushed. “...Okay. I’ll let you work on saving the world.”

He went back to the Astral Plane, feeling vaguely irritated that he hadn’t been able to get as many answers as he wanted. He would have to come back another time and maybe get through the defenses of her private quarters to find more out for himself.

First though, he had promised to update his doppleganger on everything he found. After taking the Director’s advice into consideration and finding a secluded forest in the Prime Material plane, he called up the other Kravitz.

It was late enough in the day that he had been pretty sure that his doppleganger would be done with training, but it was still a relief when he heard the voice on the other end.

“Keats? What’s up?”

“I finally confronted the Director,” Kravitz said.

“Oh! And? Did you find anything out? Should I... Can I trust her?”

“I don’t know,” Kravitz said truthfully. “She genuinely seems like she wants what’s best for you and the world. But also I don’t usually believe people when I have reason to be suspicious of them. She kept a lot of secrets from me and sort of implied that it was at least partially because she thinks that I might try to stop her. Which doesn’t sound good. But she also claimed it was the only way to save the world.”

“Right,” his doppleganger said. He sighed. “I guess hopefully that means she isn’t secretly a huge jerk? I don’t think I could take it if she turned out to be evil or something.”

“Yeah...” Kravitz said, hoping that his instincts were right and that he wasn’t wrong about the Director. The only interaction he had seen between his doppleganger and the Director hadn’t been the friendliest, but he knew that his doppleganger held a lot of respect for her.

“So what else did you find out?”

“Not a lot,” Kravitz admitted. “And you probably won’t be able to hear most of it.”

“I let you know if I hear static.”

“Well, my theory about you coming from, uh,  _ somewhere else _ is right,” Kravitz said. “And the Director comes from the same place as well. Her real name  _ is  _ Lucretia, right?” He had been pretty sure, but the Director hadn’t actually confirmed it.

“Yeah?” his doppleganger said. “Why?”

“About twelve years ago, eight bounties appeared in my book at the same time,” Kravitz explained. That must have been when they arrived here from their other universe, he realized. “All of them had died a bunch of times, and four of them were you guys, as you know.”

“And you’re saying Lucretia is one of the other four?” his doppleganger demanded. “I don’t remember going anywhere with the Director, Taako, Magnus, and Merle. Though I guess I wouldn’t with the static... Who are the other three?”

“Some people called Davenport, Lup, and Barry Bluejeans.”

A choking noise came from the other end.

“Do you recognize any of these names?” Kravitz asked, his chest tightening with hope. Maybe he could get a useful lead out of this.

“Um, Davenport works for the Bureau too. He works with the Director a lot? Like an assistant or something. I’m sure you’ve seen him around. He’s a gnome who doesn’t speak a lot.”

Kravitz was pretty sure that was the same person he had seen in the Director’s hidden painting. He was even more sure that it was of the eight people who had travelled between universes. “Do you think he knows what Lucretia knows?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it would be much help if he did. Most of the time he can only say his name.”

“Oh,” Kravitz said. “Is it just him that you know?”

“No, I recognize all the names. Barry was some guy we worked with before we were part of the Bureau. He died in the destruction of Phandalin.”

“Oh!” Kravitz said. “That’s where I met his lich.”

“Sorry, that was static,” his doppleganger said.

“I met him there. After he died.”

“And he has a death count like ours?” his doppleganger asked with a snort. “He did not seem the type to have a mysterious background at all. Is he in the Eternal Stockade now?”

“No,” Kravitz said. “He got away.”

His doppleganger chuckled disbelievingly. “As a ghost?”

“He’s a tricky guy,” Kravitz muttered.

“He didn’t seem all that complex when I met him, but I guess you can never tell,” his doppleganger said, audibly grinning. “I’m glad he’s still around.”

Kravitz was not. It was bad enough a lich had escaped him; he didn’t need an alternate version of himself finding humor in it. Even if the dying multiple times thing was a mistake, becoming a lich wasn’t something that could be so easily brushed off. “Anyway, you said you knew Lup too?”

“I’m kind of getting—it’s not static,” his doppleganger said. “But there’s something my mind is refusing to connect. What’s Lup?”

“What do you mean?” Kravitz said. He would have thought it would be quite obvious from the context. “All I know is Lup is a person.”

“Yeah, that last part was static,” his doppleganger said, and Kravitz felt chills run down his spine. 

Why would someone erase another person’s whole existence to the point where others couldn’t even remember them to be a person? He really hoped the Director hadn’t wiped everyone’s memories intentionally because he couldn’t imagine what it would take to erase the existence of someone he had travelled through a hundred planar systems with.

“Well, how do you recognize the word?”

“I saw the letters L, U, P burned into the wall of the cafeteria a while back, and I think Taako had something to do with it? But he refuses to talk about it, so I don’t know.”

“Huh,” Kravitz said. What he could pick up from this was that every single one of his bounties had something to do with the Bureau of Balance in one way or another. Since its leader seemed to be the only one who was able to remember what was going on, he had no doubt that she was involved in orchestrating all this somehow. That would be another thing to dig deeper into when he had the chance.

“We’re all so different though,” his doppleganger said. “Why do we all have such similar bounties?”

“I’m pretty sure it has something to do with you all coming from that different place, though I don’t know exactly how. The Director said she was from the same place as you, and I have reasons to believe that the other Reclaimers did too, so presumably the other three bounties are the same.”

“What reasons?” his doppleganger asked.

Kravitz wondered if he could explain the whole thing about how nobody’s hometown seemed to exist in Faerun, but it wouldn’t make any sense unless his doppleganger knew they came from another universe. “I don’t think I can explain.”

“Right,” his doppleganger said, and Kravitz could hear the annoyance in his voice. “Do you know why I can’t understand any of this?”

“The Director claims you forgot because of an accident with the second voidfish—I mean something similar to the voidfish—and that she’s trying to fix it, but...” Kravitz shrugged before remembering that his doppleganger couldn’t see him. “It seemed like she was lying.”

“But why would she do that?” his doppleganger complained. “How is keeping this a secret helping anyone? I just want to know the truth.”

“I don’t have that yet, but I’m planning on breaking into her office soon,” Kravitz said. “There might be something there that might be able to help.” If there was a second voidfish, and if the Director was lying about having lost it, that seemed like the most likely place to keep it.

“Hopefully,” his doppleganger muttered. “Did you learn anything else?”

“The Director isn’t destroying the Relics. She’s—”

“What?!” his doppleganger demanded.

“Yeah,” Kravitz said, not knowing what to say to make this situation any better. “She’s collecting them.”

“So, this whole organization is a lie.” His doppleganger just sounded defeated, and somehow that broke Kravitz’s heart more than it would if he had been furious. “I know you said you had some trust in her, but it seems less and less like she deserves it.”

“Well, she’s collecting them to fight back against something that could eat the world, or something. I don’t know why she isn’t open about it, and that seems pretty fishy, but I do think she has good intentions.” Kravitz remembered the intensity of the Director’s eyes as she swore she would never do anything against his doppleganger and the world. It wasn’t something that could be faked even by the best actor, which the Director did not really appear to be.

“But what if she’s under their thrall?”

“She claimed she wasn’t,” Kravitz said, even though that didn’t really mean anything. “Do you think she could have used any of them without someone noticing?”

There was a pause on the other end. “I mean maybe, but all of the Relics are really hard to use without having some noticeable effects. And with all five of the ones we have trying to get her to use them, I don’t think it’d be possible to keep that much control if she was under their thrall.”

“That’s good,” Kravitz said. “Hopefully that means she really is using them to save the world.”

“She still shouldn’t have lied about it. What was even the point?”

“I wish I knew,” Kravitz said softly. “I’ll keep looking into it. Apparently the end of the world is coming soon. In about a week, from what the Director said. But other than that, I don’t have anything else.”

“That’s not really helpful,” his doppleganger muttered. “Sorry—I didn’t mean—I just wish I could know more. I don’t know what we can do with what you told me, but I’ll let the others know too.”

“Sorry,” Kravitz said. His doppleganger couldn’t comprehend this information, so he was relying on Kravitz to learn about the situation and make the important decisions for him, but Kravitz had nothing but vague warnings. He was failing both of them, and he only had a short time to figure this out before the Director would make the decisions for all of them.

“Don’t be. You’re doing the best you can.”

“Yeah...” Kravitz said, unable to shake off the feeling that his best should be better. “I should start planning how to break into the Director’s private rooms to find out more. I’ll let you know if I have anything else to add.”

“Thank you,” his doppleganger said. “I’ll tell you if I learn anything too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter probably won’t be out for a bit because I haven’t finished writing it, but at the rate it’s going, it’ll probably end up doubling the length of this fic so at least there’s that


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out I lied, this isn’t actually the last chapter because I thought of a scene I wanted to add, which made it possible to break up the chapter. This is still almost 20k words long though and the next one will be out pretty soon.  
> A million thanks to Anna who betaed all of this, wrote a short au-ish oneshot with polyamorous Kravitz/Kravitz/Taako (it’s called Kravitzzimo and I definitely recommend checking it out), inspired me to actually finish this, and just has in general been an amazing person and friend.

“Why does the Director want to meet us in the conference room?” Kravitz asked as the four Reclaimers left their quarters, his heart fluttering anxiously. Usually the Director either came to them herself, or she called them to her office. This departure from the norm could very well be nothing, but it still worried him.

“You know as much as I do,” Merle muttered, a little sharper than normal.

 It had been four days since Kravitz had told them about the static he heard from Keats and everything Keats had learned in his conversation with the Director. He told them about how she had come from ‘another place’ like them, that she claimed to have accidentally erased their memories of it, and that she wasn’t actually destroying the Relics they collected because she wanted to use them against some world ending threat coming their way.

Taako had little to add, but Merle and Magnus had their own stories.

Magnus showed them the drawing from Refuge that depicted his face on the Red Robe’s statue and spoke of his nighttime swim with the voidfish, and how the voidfish had a baby that the Director had taken. He described the strange, abstract story it told, which seemed to fit with what Keats had said about the Reclaimers and the other four coming from ‘another place.’ Merle had less to add, just a short anecdote about the Red Robe saving some kids when he was visiting Neverwinter, but it did add another layer to the mystery.

The four of them seemed to have just enough information to be confused about everything, without actually knowing anything helpful. After talking it over, they established that none of them knew exactly what to think of the Director or the Red Robes or Grand Relics, but all of them were extremely suspicious of her. 

With the timing of the Director’s summons, Kravitz was terrified that somehow she had found out that they all knew the true purpose of the Bureau and how much she had lied to them. He wasn’t sure how she would know they knew or why she hadn’t done anything immediately after Keats had confronted her, but that almost made his anxiety worse.

The walk across the moon base was silent and all too short. Stalling wouldn’t help anything, but he still wanted to put off the moment when he had to face the Director. 

Kravitz found himself entering the conference dome in what felt like no time at all. The four reclaimers hesitated once they were in the room, tense and nervous, even as the Director waved for them to sit. Kravitz was trying not to show how suspicious and wary he felt, to appear as casual and friendly as he always had, but he had a feeling it wasn’t very convincing.

“I apologize for the odd location,” the Director said, an extra layer of gravitas in her tone. “I believe someone set off a stink bomb in front of my office, and the whole place smells terrible, so I had to hold our meeting here instead.”

Someone should make a joke, Kravitz thought. Under normal circumstances, at least one of them absolutely would have teased her about this, but he couldn’t think of anything remotely funny for the life of him. What little relief brought on by the Director’s explanation for their meeting place was not enough to dampen his fear of being found out.

“What do you want?” Taako asked. To Kravitz’s ears, it sounded too cold and harsh, but he didn’t know how much of that was him projecting and how much of it the Director would pick up on.

The Director sighed and looked down. “I’m—I know you must all be annoyed with me, and I want to apologize. I’ve been working you very hard lately, but I just… I know what’s waiting for you on your next mission, and you will all need to be at peak performance to succeed.”

Kravitz tried to force himself not to react, not to show his surprise, but his mouth was already moving before he could stop it. “Wait, this is about the next Relic?”

The Director nodded grimly. “I’ve known about this one for a while, but I had to make sure you were as prepared as possible before I sent you after it.”

“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good,” Magnus muttered.

It wasn’t, as Kravitz soon learned. The Director described her previous attempt to retrieve the Animus Bell from Wonderland, and the price she paid just to escape.

The suspicious part of Kravitz paid close attention, trying to fit the details of the Director’s life into the framework of information Keats had given him. There wasn’t anything to really contradict what Keats had said, but there wasn’t much to confirm it either. It seemed a bit strange that the Director would go through so much effort to retrieve the Animus Bell when it was already fairly well protected if her only goal was to stop mass destruction, but there could be many reasons for that. The people who currently held it didn’t seem all that trustworthy, after all.

Not that Kravitz necessarily believed Keats wasn’t telling him the truth, but he wanted more information before he made any big decisions against someone he had trusted for so long, unlike Taako who had been perfectly ready to defect at a moment’s notice. He just wanted to be absolutely sure.

“You’ll have some help in your mission, of course,” the Director said. “Wonderland will likely not have many challenging mental puzzles for you to face—”

“That’s a relief!” Taako said.

“—but your emotional state may be compromised, and you may encounter unexpected mysteries. For that reason, Angus McDonald will be on the stone of farspeech with you to monitor your well-being and help you get through the place.”

“Where is the kid?” Magnus asked, peering around the room like he thought Angus might be hiding under the Director’s desk or behind her chair. “He’s normally in here with us.”

“Yes,” the Director said. “I thought he would want to meet you here, but he said he had something he needed to check up on. Not to worry though, I’m sure he’ll be done with whatever it is by the time you arrive in Wonderland.”

“Oh,” Kravitz said, wondering if this was a cover up or if he really had nothing to worry about. That was probably just his paranoia speaking, he told himself as soon as he had the thought. No matter what secrets the Director was hiding, Kravitz didn’t think she would hurt Angus in any way, and even if she had, she wouldn’t tell them that they would be hearing from him later on. The Reclaimers were forgetful and distractible enough that the best way to keep something out of their attention was to not bring it up in the first place.

“Are you boys ready to go, or do you have any more business to attend to before you blast off?” the Director asked, a note of dryness in her tone. “Want to spend like twenty minutes buying shorts again or...?”

“Nah, I think we’re good,” Taako said.

A few jokes later, the Reclaimers were on their way out of the conference room. Magnus paused once they had gone a few feet down the path, forcing the rest of the Reclaimers to stop in their tracks. He turned around to face them all.

“So...” Magnus said in an undertone. “What are we going to do? Are we going to get the Relic?”

“I say don’t bother,” Taako said. “Why risk our lives to get it when the Director’s been lying to us the whole time?”

“Maybe we should have asked her about what she’s really doing...” Kravitz said. It still wasn’t too late to go back and see if they could get anything else out of her.

“If the other Kravitz couldn’t get anything more out of her, why do you think we’d be able to?” Taako shot back. “And we probably wouldn’t be able to understand as much as he would anyway because of the static.”

“But if she was telling the truth about needing the Relics to save the world, then wouldn’t it suck if we didn’t have it?” Magnus pointed out. “And listen, from what the Director said, Wonderland actually sounds pretty rad.”

“You have a point there...” Taako mused.

“What do you think?” Kravitz asked Merle. He wasn’t sure how much he should be worried about Wonderland. It sounded easier and more enjoyable than the other places they had gone to retrieve the Relics, but the Director had also lost twenty years of her life there and had been training them hard for a reason. Besides, despite all the possible dangers it held, if the last relic really was necessary to save the world, Wonderland would be nothing compared to the approaching darkness that Keats had described. “Ironically enough, I think it might be the safer option.”

Merle shrugged. “I’m in if you all are.”

“I guess we’re doing this then,” Magnus announced, and no one contradicted him, though Taako did make a face.

They reached the cannons soon after and were shot into the Felicity Wilds. They ran into a chimera which they defeated, but after that Kravitz didn’t really pay the others much attention, even as they were joined by another party of travellers.

His mind was still stuck on what Keats had told him a few days before, spinning around the same thoughts like a refrain on eternal repeat. He wanted to trust the Director, to believe that everything she was doing was for the sake of the world, but how could he do that when she had already lied about the entire purpose of her organization? 

If she really was trying to save them all, why would she actively lie about it and keep them from ever comprehending the full truth? There was no good reason Kravitz could think of. Maybe the cost of using the Relics to save the world was too high for anyone else to willingly agree to such a plan. Maybe she only thought she was doing good, but in reality was so under their thrall that she didn’t even realize it. But that theory didn’t make any sense because the Bureau of Balance had been in operation for months before she had gotten a hold of the first Relic.

Unless... There would still be one more Relic that the Reclaimers hadn’t gotten a hold of, after the Animus Bell. Why had the Director sent them to retrieve the Animus Bell after holding off for so long when there was still one more they could get first? What if the Director already had the seventh Relic?

Kravitz made a mental note to ask Keats if he knew what the last Relic was after this mission. If he didn’t know, Kravitz could always get Angus to research it.

But all of this wasn’t even the biggest concern on his mind. Keats had said that Kravitz was from “somewhere else”, along with seven others, and that the memory of coming here had been erased. He wanted to consider all of its implications, to search his memories until something new popped up, but every time he tried, he ran into more static. His thoughts were incapable of going down the paths he was trying to push them down.

It was immensely frustrating to be so close to an answer that he simply could not reach. There was no point in thinking about it, Kravitz figured. It would only lead to more questions and headaches. He had to trust that Keats was looking for more information, even now, and that he would put a stop to anything bad or dangerous he discovered.

His thoughts were interrupted about half a day later when the party came to a halt. There was a clearing right in front of them, floodlights shining onto a large cylindrical building. The walls of the cylinder were black and white striped, spinning around like a roulette wheel. It made Kravitz dizzy to look at it, so he focused his attention on the signs instead.

Along the side of the path were large billboards. One of them had his name, along with the names of the other three Reclaimers and a picture of the Animus Bell. There were three more that caught Kravitz’s attention, which had the names of each of their current travelling companions and pictures of the items that they had presumably come here to find. He wanted to know how this place could know so much about all of them before they even arrived, but the way the Director described it made it seem mystical enough that he wasn’t that surprised.

As they neared the building, its spinning abruptly stopped, the sudden shift in motion causing Kravitz to stumble.

“You okay there?” Taako murmured, grabbing hold of his arm.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Kravitz said. Taako didn’t let go, even after Kravitz had very clearly regained his balance, and a warm feeling fluttered into his chest.

A doorway had opened up in the wall, and there was a sign above it with Artemis, Rowen, and Antonia’s names on it. The two groups exchanged their goodbyes (and also some presents in the case of Magnus and Rowen), and then the three other travellers entered the building. A moment later, the door vanished.

The building resumed its spinning, and Kravitz wasn’t actually  _ that _ dizzy from it, but he wasn’t going to turn down an excuse to lean a little more into Taako.

It stopped again, this time on a white space. All of their names were on the sign above the open door. Kravitz couldn’t see what was beyond it, which was weird because he should be able to get some impression of what was in there, even if it was just “poorly lit.” Inside was a blackness that was dark and absolute enough to be a solid thing.

Just as he was getting second thoughts about going into Wonderland, Magnus took off running into it.

“Um,” was all Kravitz managed to say.

“That place seems sketchy as fuck,” Taako said. “I’m not so sure about this.”

“Yeah—” Kravitz began, but before he could say anymore, Magnus was already back outside. He grabbed Taako’s arm and dragged him inside. Kravitz stumbled after them, with Merle right behind.

“Son of a bitch!” Taako shouted. He jerked away from Magnus into Kravitz, but Kravitz could only tell this through the shift of pressure on his arm. He couldn’t see anything.

There should have been some light coming in from outside, enough for Taako and Magnus’s silhouettes to be visible, if nothing else. Kravitz turned to look back, but behind him was only more darkness, like the door had never existed at all. Swallowing back a lump of fear, Kravitz moved his other hand on top of the arm Taako was still using to hold onto him. Every instinct told him that something was very off about this place.

Without warning, a row of spotlights clicked on, briefly blinding Kravitz. When the bright hazy spots cleared from his vision, he could see that they were in a room much larger than the building they had entered. At what was clearly supposed to be the center of attention, with all the lights aimed at it, was a large catwalk.

There were two elves posed atop it, each in distinct but matching clothing of vibrant colors and tacky design. Their heads were tilted up and arms gracefully held aloft. To Kravitz’s growing horror, their faces were extremely familiar.

The female elf—Lydia, Kravitz knew she was called—raised an arm into the air and snapped. Suddenly, the room was all flashing lights and loud music and dramatic poses, but Kravitz couldn’t move or breathe or stop staring at the twins he had once known so well. He didn’t know whether he should hide his face or grab their attention or what. He had never expected to run into  _ them _ .

This couldn’t be real, Kravitz thought, even as his eyes told him an entirely different story. His siblings were  _ dead _ , and they couldn’t be here now. Except Keats hadn’t said anything either way about  _ his  _ siblings, so they might still be around, but this was still all so wild and unbelievable, and Kravitz could barely even  _ think _ properly anymore.

On their tenth or so pose, the twins finally turned to face the Reclaimers, and Kravitz could tell the exact moment they caught his eyes. Instantly, their gaudy postures dropped, the music silenced and flashing lights frozen. The silence seemed to echo in the moment, like a fermata, like a held breath of anticipation. If not for the confusion being projected from Kravitz’s companions, he might have thought that time had been paused.

“This can’t be...” Lydia whispered, filling up the silent room.

Suddenly, Edward was no longer up on the catwalk but right in front of Kravitz. He jumped back in surprise, clinging even tighter to Taako.

“You have his face.” Edward said, his voice tight and nothing like the gaudy show that had just been interrupted. “Why do you have his face.”

“His name too,” Lydia said. She appeared next to Edward, but Kravitz was less startled this time, and he didn’t react. “We thought it was a coincidence, but...”

“Wow, deja vu,” Merle muttered. Part of Kravitz recognized that this was indeed very much like the time he had met Keats, but his mind was too full for that thought to stay long.

Here were his siblings, alive after all these years of death. He wanted to run up to them, hug them, ask them how they could possibly be here. Except he knew the answer. These weren’t  _ his _ siblings, they were Keats’. And Kravitz remembered what Keats had said about his siblings, how they had used evil magic to try to keep him alive. 

When Keats had told him that, the knowledge had seemed far away and distant, something unfortunate but unfixable, something that only related to him in a weird indirect way. But now here they were, and all Kravitz could think was that these were the people he had looked up to and respected more than anyone in his life, the people he had inherited his sense of drama from, the people he had grown up with. The idea that they could do something so bad, even for somewhat good reasons, felt impossible. He didn’t want to believe it.

“Uh, do you know these guys or is it like last time?” Taako asked him, and Kravitz was yanked back into reality.

He blinked, glancing back at his fellow Reclaimers. He had a job to do here and friends to look out for. He couldn’t lose himself in the mess of churning memories and emotions. “Edward. Lydia,” he managed to say.

Both of them took a step back, eyes wide.

“You remember?” Lydia asked. “How—?”

“Did it work? After all these years?” Edward asked, crashing down Kravitz’s dreams that somehow they were  _ his _ siblings, people who hadn’t become necromancers.

Kravitz opened his mouth to tell them the truth, then stopped. He remembered how protective his siblings had been of him. If someone wearing his face and name had come up to them and told them he was actually someone else, they would not react well. He couldn’t imagine that after hundreds of years of knowing necromancy and living with their failed attempt to save their little brother, these two would be any better.

“I don’t know how I got here,” Kravitz said, and it wasn’t a lie. He pushed away the horrible sick feeling in his stomach that hated the fact that he was tricking his own  _ siblings _ because he couldn’t trust them not to hurt him. “I don’t... There’s a lot of details I don’t remember too clearly.”

“I’m sorry, who are these people?” Magnus said, looking utterly lost. Kravitz took a moment to think about how this past minute would have looked from an outside perspective and decided it was a fair reaction.

“My older siblings, Lydia and Edward.”

“You have siblings?” Taako asked.

“Um,” Kravitz said. He had no idea how to explain this situation.

Merle squinted at the two of them and turned back to Kravitz. “You don’t look anything alike.”

“Well, we were all adopted,” Kravitz said. “Our moms didn’t want to get pregnant, but they did want kids.”

“It  _ is _ you,” Lydia said, mouth slightly open with disbelief. “It’s really you.” She reached out to touch Kravitz’s face. Her hand was weightless, like something that wasn’t really there. 

A shiver of cold ran through Kravitz’s spine. Something was very wrong with Lydia and Edward, and why hadn’t he noticed it until now? Elves aged slowly, but the Kravitz of this world had been alive centuries ago. They shouldn’t look as if they were the exact same age as the siblings that Kravitz had known.

“Is it really you?” Kravitz asked.

“Of course,” Edward said. “Remember your thirteenth birthday when we stole a canoe and took you upstream to that island?”

“We pretended we were pirates...” Kravitz didn’t know what it meant that he shared at least some of his childhood experiences with Keats. He didn’t know if it was a good thing or bad thing that these versions of his siblings were so close to his own.

“Our Keats,” Edward said, smiling. Kravitz suppressed the urge to flinch. His siblings had never called him that, and it painfully highlighted the fact that these were not really the people he had known.

“What are you doing in a place like this?” Lydia demanded, switching to her protective older sister voice. “And looking for something as dangerous as the Animus Bell too!”

“You’re ones to talk! You’re the ones who run this place,” Kravitz pointed out.

“Yeah, well you’re our younger brother,” Edward said, his hands on his hips. “It’s our job to make sure you don’t do dumb and dangerous things, even if we do.”

“And who’s that elf you’re holding hands with? He better be treating you well,” Lydia moved away from Kravitz to narrow her eyes at Taako. Kravitz fought the urge to let go of Taako and jump away from him, as if that would hide anything.

“I—this is Taako,” Kravitz said, almost dizzy with the strangeness of it all. He had never in a million years thought that he would have any family to bring his boyfriend to meet. “We, uh work together. We collect dangerous relics and destroy them—” he knew this wasn’t true anymore, but he had briefly forgotten, and it was too late to change course now, “—so people can’t use them to harm others.”

“And you want the Animus Bell,” Edward said. There was a shift in his voice, something cool and deadly, something Kravitz had never heard directed toward him, and Kravitz knew he had said the wrong thing.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry, no can do,” Lydia said, pulling back. “We’ll let you leave, and even let your friends go too. That’s more than most people get. But we can’t give you the Animus Bell.”

“And we can’t leave without it,” Kravitz said.

“It appears that we’re at an impasse,” Magnus said. “Could we just borrow it for like a week? We’d give it back.”

“You just said you destroy dangerous artifacts!” Edward said. “We aren’t going to let you borrow one!”

“Oh right...” Magnus muttered. Kravitz really should have gone with the real purpose of the Bureau. They wouldn’t believe him if he tried changing his story now.

“Maybe, we could try some other exchange,” Taako suggested. “Look I was thinking, this gig you’ve got—” he waved at the catwalk and lights and Lydia and Edward— “this stuff is right up my alley. If you’re looking for employment or something, I’d love to work for you!”

Edward stared blankly at him. “You’re saying that in exchange for giving you our most prized possession, we should also give you a job.”

“Or not!” Taako said.

“Please,” Kravitz tried. “I’m your  _ brother _ .” The instant he said that, he knew he had made a mistake. Edward swung to look at him, his expression turning cold as ice.

“Our  _ dead _ brother, who even  _ we  _ couldn’t save,” Edward said. “How do we know you’re who you say you are? It’s a little convenient, no? The one person who could make us part with the Bell just happens to show up and ask for it.”

“Lydia!” Kravitz pleaded, his heart sinking. He wasn’t the imposter they thought he was, but he wasn’t  _ their _ Kravitz. If he said the wrong thing, happened across some inconsistency between his life and Keats’, then they would never trust him. He knew he had no way to prove who he was.

“I…” Lydia said, glancing between her brothers. “I want to believe you, but it  _ is _ awfully suspicious.”

Kravitz saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes and knew that the battle was already lost. His great advantage was quickly turning on him.

“Hey,” Magnus interrupted. “How about you give us a fair chance? We pass through your tests or whatever, then you’ll give us the Bell, just like you would if Kravitz wasn’t with us.”

Lydia snorted. “Absolutely not. If this guy here really is our brother, there’s no way we’re putting him in danger. And if he isn’t, we’ll bring down suffering like you can’t imagine.”

“What can I say to make you believe me?” Kravitz asked.

“Giving us an explanation that makes sense, for one thing,” Edward said, crossing his arms.

“I told you, I don’t know!” Why did the static have to be covering up his thoughts? If only he could hear an actual explanation, he could give it to them, even if it meant admitting that he was probably just another version of their brother, not the exact person they had always known.

“Sure, sure. Likely story,” Edward sneered. “If you’re really him, what’s the last thing we said to you before you died?”

Kravitz could feel everyone’s eyes on him: Edward and Lydia hoping for their impossible wish to be confirmed; Taako, Merle, and Magnus hoping that he would give the right answer and that they could get what they came here for without a fight. His thoughts frantically collided, trying to remember if Keats had ever given that detail when he talked about his death. What would his siblings have said to him if he was about to die and they couldn’t stop it? “‘I’m sorry?’” he tried.

Lydia and Edward’s expressions shuttered close, the lights of the room growing dimmer and more menacing.

“Wrong answer,” Edward spat.

“I don’t know who you are or how you had the fucking nerve to take his face, but that was the worst decision of your life,” Lydia snapped.

“I don’t suppose you’d believe us if we said that this was all just a huge misunderstanding,” Merle muttered.

Edward ignored him. “Unluckily for you, we’ve had centuries to figure out the best way to extract the most suffering from people. You’re going to regret using him like nothing else.”

Under all of Kravitz’s hurt and fear and pain because  _ his beloved siblings were about to torture him to death _ , part of him wondered at the odd phrasing. “Extract suffering,” like suffering was blood or something that could be taken from a person and used for a purpose.

“You’re not going to hurt him,” Taako said, his eyes fierce and defensive as he took a step forward. Kravitz couldn’t look away. For someone whose general reaction to danger was staying out of it, Taako was facing it pretty head-on, and the thought that this was for his sake left Kravitz breathless.

“Enough!” Edward snapped, still staring directly at Kravitz. “You’re going to play our game now, and you’re going to go along with every part because if you don’t, your friends are going to start dying, starting with the buff one. Understand?”

Swallowing the awful betrayal creeping up his throat, Kravitz nodded. He had no reason to think that his friends would live, even if he did do exactly as Edward and Lydia wanted, but he would do anything just to buy them a bit more time. He had no other choice.

* * *

 

Kravitz needed help. Breaking into the Director’s private quarters seemed like the only option he had left to discover the answers to all his questions, but he couldn’t do it alone. Because of whatever wards she had in place, he wouldn’t be able to use any of his reaper powers to get into her quarters. His powers weren’t the only tricks he had, but this was high stakes enough that he didn’t want risk it without some back up.

There weren’t many people he could ask though. The other reapers would face the same struggles as him. The Reclaimers didn’t seem like the type to be good at breaking into places, and besides, they were quite busy these days.

Kravitz didn’t personally know anyone else who could help him, but fortunately he had listened to Taako and his doppleganger talk about their coworkers in the Bureau, and he knew there was one person who could do it: Angus McDonald.

It was currently still early in the morning, but Taako had often complained about the early rising habits of his eager student, so Kravitz was sure it was fine. The first place that Kravitz checked, the library, was empty, but near the edge of the cafeteria sat one boy by himself, reading a book as he ate some pancakes. Kravitz approached, struck by how young Angus was. He had known that Angus was only eleven, but seeing it was a different matter altogether. Part of him was starting to wonder if this was a good idea after all, but he was confident that even if they were caught, the Director wouldn’t harm a kid.

“Hello, Angus,” Kravitz said.

Angus’s eyes didn’t leave his book. “Good morning, si—” Then he paused and frowned, looking up at Kravitz. “Oh! You must be the other Kravitz!”

“I am. You can call me Keats, if you would like,” Kravitz said, shaking the hand Angus offered. “May I sit?”

“Yeah, of course! It’s nice to finally meet you, sir!” Angus slipped a bookmark into his book and closed it. “Taako and Kravitz mentioned hanging out with you, and I’m not sure if they wanted me to overhear, but they aren’t very good at keeping secrets.”

Kravitz chuckled. “Well, it’s good you know about me. I imagine it’d be pretty weird otherwise, with me being so similar to the other Kravitz.”

“Oh, I knew about you from the Miller Lab too,” Angus said. That whole situation had hardly been the best first impression the Bureau could have had of him, and Kravitz would have been worried if Angus didn’t already sound so friendly and unconcerned. “Is there something you wanted?”

“Yes, actually.” Kravitz glanced down for a moment, wondering exactly how he could convince Angus to betray his superior and commit a crime, and whether or not he even should. Then again, if Angus was as clever as Taako and his doppleganger made him out to be, perhaps he already had his suspicions. “I... have you noticed something off about the Director and this organization?”

Angus immediately frowned, leaning forward across the table. “Are you saying I have good reason to be suspicious?”

So he did know something was up. “What do you know?”

“Nothing much,” Angus said, his voice just audible over the chatter of the other early-rising Bureau of Balance employees. “Just... after the whole L.U.P incident—wait do you know about that?”

Kravitz nodded. “The other Kravitz told me.”

“Well, after that, I started investigating the letters. I asked a bunch of people if they knew what it meant, and most of them had no idea, but the Director was definitely hiding something. And there’s other things that don’t add up. I’m not even entirely certain they’re actually destroying the Relics.”

“I know the answers to some of that,” Kravitz said. Angus instantly lit up. “The Bureau isn’t destroying the Relics. And the Director, Lup, the Reclaimers, and some other people came from another universe but got their memories wiped.”

Angus jumped back, eyes wide. “Was that—was that voidfish static?”

“Yes,” Kravitz said. “The Director has something to do with it. Which is why I need your help breaking into her private quarters.”

“Uh...” Angus furrowed his eyebrows. “Isn’t that kind of risky? How do you know she knows anything?”

“I had a conversation with her earlier,” Kravitz said, growing less certain of his decision as he spoke. It  _ was _ risky, and as clever as Angus seemed to be, perhaps he wasn’t the best person to recruit for help. Still, he at least deserved a proper explanation, so Kravitz continued. “We talked about the thing that I just said, but she didn’t hear the static. She admitted she was hiding something, but refused to explain it.”

“Oh,” Angus said

“I won’t lie,” Kravitz said, carefully meeting his eyes. “It  _ is _ risky, and if you’re even a little hesitant—”

“I’m ready to go!”.

Kravitz frowned. He admired Angus’s determination, but he didn’t want him to rush such a major decision. “Are you su—?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Angus said. “I have my wand, notebook, crossbow, and magnifying glass. I’m ready when you are.”

Kravitz was pretty sure that even if he wanted to change his mind about bringing Angus along, it was too late now, so he just shook his head. “You’re okay with betraying the Bureau of Balance? Because that’s what you’ll be doing. You’ll...” Kravitz grasped around for something that could make Angus see the gravity of the situation. “You’ll kind of be a bad guy.”

Angus smiled. “The ones looking for the truth, well, they’re never the bad guys. I know that from my Caleb Cleveland novels.”

Which was kind of adorable, but Kravitz didn’t have time to linger on how precious this child was. It was clear that Angus would not be swayed. “Fine,” Kravitz said. “Do you know when would be a good time to go? We don’t want to run into the Director accidentally.”

Angus checked his watch. “In about half an hour, she’ll be preparing to send the Reclaimers on their mission in her office. I’m sort of supposed to be there, but it’s fine if I’m not. We could get her debrief the Reclaimers outside of her office and break in then.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Kravitz asked. 

Angus’s responding grin made Kravitz almost regret asking. “I’ll show you once we’re there, sir!” He jumped up from his seat, stuffing his book into his backpack. “Let’s go!”

Kravitz followed Angus out of the cafeteria, across the campus, and into the dome where the Director’s office was. He was pretty sure that usually there was a guard standing outside of it, but today, there was none. The whole moonbase seemed unusually subdued, though perhaps it was just that Kravitz did not often come there so early in the morning.

A few feet from the door, Angus stopped. He pulled off his backpack, rummaging around in one of the pockets for a bit before pulling out a small bag.

“I’d advise you to plug your nose, sir,” Angus said before throwing it at the door. The bag exploded, dark purple fumes billowing out from where it had landed. Kravitz no longer needed to breathe, but even still, horrendous-smelling particles managed their way into his lungs, and he almost coughed.

Angus ran in a different direction, Kravitz right behind him. They stopped inside another dome, filled with squishy couches, puzzles, and games. It looked like a common room, though it was currently empty. The smell, Kravitz noted, had not followed them.

“The Director won’t want to investigate what’s causing that smell?” he asked.

Angus shrugged. “The smell isn’t coming from inside her office, so she’ll probably just assume it was some spell or potion gone wrong. That happens a lot. But I doubt she’ll want to hold a meeting in there.”

“Probably not,” Kravitz agreed, fighting the urge to grin. “I’m dead, and I think that thing almost killed me all over again. What now?”

“While we wait, can you tell me everything you can?”

Kravitz recounted what he had told his doppleganger, Angus interrupting every few seconds with questions of his own. Most of the time, Kravitz couldn’t answer them, or at least not in a way that Angus could understand. That didn’t stop Angus from marking notes in his book, though Kravitz couldn’t possibly guess what conclusions he was drawing, especially since the voidfish would block anything he was right about.

After a bit, Angus pointed out the time, and back to the office they went.

All things considered, breaking into the Director’s private chambers was much easier than it had any right to be. Kravitz saw past the illusion in the hall, and Angus muted the alarm before it could go off.

Past the hall was a door, as solid as the entrance to a bank vault, with a keypad. There was no lock for Kravitz to pick, and he didn’t he think he could blow a hole in the door with magic. For a second, he instinctively went to teleport through the door, but that wouldn’t work here; that was the whole reason he was going through this with Angus. Without any other options, he looked to Angus. “Do you know how to get through this?”

Angus was crouched in front of his backpack and had already pulled out a gold key. “I got this from Leon, sir! It can open any lock!”

Kravitz eyed it skeptically. “Even one that doesn’t have a key hole?”

Instead of replying, Angus pressed the key on top of the keypad. On the little gray screen a stream of numbers began scrolling down. Kravitz wondered if it was supposed to do this, or if the key had broken it, but Angus appeared unconcerned, so Kravitz figured it was probably fine. A long moment passed, and the spin of the numbers began to slow.

When all the numbers came at last to a halt, there was a small click, breaking the silence, and the door swung open.

Kravitz stepped forward before Angus could. He wasn’t going to allow a kid to enter a potentially dangerous place before he could. Cautiously, he pushed the door open. No alarms went off, no traps were activated, no guards came rushing in. It seemed safe.

The room was very obviously a work space, with stacks of books on the desk and a giant map on the back wall. Above the desk was a floating holy symbol, which Kravitz recognized as an anti-lich ward that would affect all undead beings to some extent. He wondered if liches were a common threat to the Director or if she was just paranoid enough to ward against everything.

Kravitz plucked the symbol out of the air and felt his connection to the Astral Plane return. He could teleport Angus out at any time now, but there was no immediate threat, so he decided to save that for an emergency. He wasn’t supposed to bring living mortals to the Astral Plane if possible, after all.

In one corner was a small tank with a bell above it. Kravitz had never seen the voidfish underneath the Bureau of Balance headquarters, but the glowing jellyfish-like creature inside seemed like a smaller version of what the Reclaimers had described.

Kravitz had known a second voidfish existed, but he hadn’t expected to find one here. This was the evidence of the Director’s lie, the one thing that would allow his doppleganger and the others to understand him.

The Reclaimers had told him that they had been inoculated to the first one by drinking its “ichor.” Kravitz didn’t know what that was exactly or how to get it, but if it was a liquid produced by the voidfish, he figured there must be some of it floating around in the tank. He could just collect some of that and hope for the best.

While Kravitz was distracted by the voidfish, Angus had entered as well and was flipping through the journals on the desk.

“These two are empty, sir!” Angus said, pointing at the open ones that weren’t in the stack. “And I think all of these other ones are filled with static! It’s just like my investigations into those missing people before I found the Bureau.”

“I think I have a solution to that,” Kravitz said. “Can you cast something on the bell so it doesn’t ring?”

“Do you think there’s something in the tank?” Angus asked. He lifted his wand from where it was hanging on his lanyard, pointing it at the bell and casting a spell.

“Yeah,” Kravitz said because it was simpler than trying to verbally dance around the static to explain why he knew what was in the tank.

 Kravitz looked around for something to hold the water in. There was an empty mug on the desk, which he filled with the tank water. He turned to Angus who was watching him with wary fascination.

“Are you going to drink that, sir?”

“I...” Kravitz was suddenly hit with the overwhelming sense that it would be wildly irresponsible of him to tell a child to drink some mysterious liquid without testing it first. He took a sip, even though chances were most effects it could have wouldn’t affect him. There was a hint of coffee that couldn’t mask the gross fishy taste of the water, but it didn’t seem harmful. “I think you should drink this, but I don’t know for a fact that it will be as harmless to you as it is me because I’m sort of undead.”

“Oh, Taako taught me a spell for that!” Angus said. His expression suddenly turned solemn for reasons that Kravitz couldn’t guess. “He was pretty insistent about actually...”

“What spell?”

Angus cleared his throat. “Detect Poison and Disease. That should let me know if it’s safe to drink.”

Not every dangerous liquid contained poison or disease, but if it was a curse, it would have affected Kravitz too, and sometimes there were only so many precautions a person could take.

Angus performed the spell. “It’s perfectly safe, sir!”

“Alright,” Kravitz said, reluctantly handing the mug over. 

Angus took a sip and blinked. “Is that a second voidfish in the corner? That must be why you saw it and I didn’t! Someone used the second voidfish to erase its own existence! But why?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Kravitz said. “I know the Director think it’s for the best, but...”

“It does seem a bit sketchy,” Angus agreed. “I bet I could read the journals now without seeing mostly static.”

“We’ve already been here for a while, and I want to search the rest of this place,” Kravitz said. “Could you grab just a few and go?”

“They were numbered, so I could grab the first and last one,” Angus said.

“Good,” Kravitz said. “Now let’s see what else is in here.”

He went to the desk and pulled open its drawers one by one, finding only various writing supplies and souvenirs-type things from a vast range of places. There was nothing to indicate the approaching apocalypse or the answers to the questions that had been piling up for nearly half a year now.

“There’s a bunch more journals here!” Angus said, his head half-hidden by the doors to an old wooden cabinet. “And—oh! I found the Grand Relics!”

Kravitz jumped up. “What?! Get away from them!”

“It’s... I think it’s okay,” Angus said, though he did take a few steps back. “I don’t feel any pull from them, sir. If I had to make a guess, I would say that whatever was powering them is gone.”

“Still, it’s best not to risk it,” Kravitz said firmly. “We already knew that the Director wasn’t destroying them, so we aren’t learning anything from them.”

“You said she wanted to use them to fight against whatever is coming for us, right?” Angus asked. “But if they don’t have their power anymore, then it must mean that the Director wants to use the Relics’  _ power _ to fight the threat, not the Relics themselves.”

“Does it make a difference?” Kravitz asked.

Angus shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, there doesn’t seem to be anything else in this room, so let’s get out and give the Reclaimers the voidfish ichor so we can figure out what’s going on.”

“Okay!” Angus stepped forward toward cabinet with the relics inside. Kravitz instinctively reached out to stop him, but Angus only grabbed a book labelled with a large number 1 on the spine. “I’m ready to go, sir!”

“You’re only taking one book?” Kravitz asked as he headed toward the door. The cup with the voidfish tank water was still in his hand, mostly filled up. He would have to transfer it into a water bottle or flask or something so he could carry it around without fear of spilling it, but that could be done later.

“No, I already grabbed book 99 too,” Angus said, reaching behind him with the hand not holding a book to pat his backpack.

Kravitz eyed it. The bag did seem to be sagging more than it had been when they arrived.

They made it out of the Director’s private quarters without further incident, and Angus led Kravitz to his quarters. Apparently Angus got to have a room all to himself, so they could stash the books there without anyone coming to find them.

“I have to go check in with the Director,” Angus said. “The Reclaimers should still be in their meeting with her.”

Kravitz took two empty water bottles from Angus’s desk and poured half the water in the cup into one of them. “Here, take this. If you get the chance to speak to them alone, have them drink from it.”

“Okay!” Angus said, taking the offered bottle. “If they finished the meeting quickly, they might be back in their quarters, preparing for the mission. Or at Fantasy Costco. Or—”

Kravitz waved him off. “I’ll go look around and see if I can spot them. You shouldn’t be later than you already are for a meeting with the Director.”

It was only after Angus scampered off that Kravitz realized that leaving himself on the moonbase without a guide was a bad start to finding the Reclaimers. He knew where their quarters were, so he teleported there, but they were empty. Kravitz had to check the other places they might be, but he didn’t know where they were. Angus mentioned a Fantasy Costco, but Kravitz didn’t have the faintest clue where that might be located. Despite all his visits to Taako and his doppleganger, he had really only ever been to their quarters and the quads.

At some point they would have to be sent to Faerun, Kravitz figured. His doppleganger had mentioned being shot out of a canon for transportation, which seemed overly dramatic even for him. A place like that would have to be one of the bigger domes, Kravitz figured.

He wandered around a little until he saw the dome with the sign that read “Hangar.” It seemed as good as any place to start.

Inside was a large open space that was partially underground so that the room was even bigger than the dome would suggest from the outside. There were a variety of canons above various circular covers that looked like they might open up to the underside of the fake moon. There were little platforms around each of the doors to the room, and Kravitz suspected that it might normally be where guards stood watch.

There wasn’t anybody standing on them now; in fact the only person other than Kravitz was a man in a blue uniform who appeared to be tinkering on one of the canons.

“Hello?” Kravitz called out.

“Hi!” the man responded cheerily before he paused from his work and looked up, his smile slipping into a frown. “You aren’t allowed to be here.”

“I’ll be on my way in a bit,” Kravitz said. “I was just looking for the Reclaimers.”

The man set down his hammer and stood up. “I’m sorry, they already left. About five minutes ago. You just missed them.”

“Oh,” Kravitz said. He could go down to Faeurn himself and find them, but that would take a long time unless he knew their location already. “Where did they go?”

The man shook his head sadly. “I can’t tell you that. The Director’s orders. If you tell me your name, I could let them know you asked about them when they come back though. I’m Avi.”

The name sounded familiar, probably mentioned once or twice by one of the Reclaimers. “I’m Kr—Keats, but it’s fine.”

“Really, it’d be no trouble.”

“No, I don’t need to talk to them that badly,” Kravitz said. “It was just a question of curiosity.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Avi said.

“Thanks for your help.”

“No problem!” Avi gave him a wave then turned back to his work on the canon.

Kravitz left the dome. With the Reclaimers already off the moonbase, his best course of action would probably be to reunite with Angus, who would hopefully have a better idea of where they were. Maybe they could look through the journals first, since they were no longer in a hurry to catch the Reclaimers before they left.

This time when he passed through the Astral Plane on his way to the dorm building, there was something almost sticky about passing through the planar boundaries. Kravitz had been doing this for centuries, and by now he had mastered the process. Slicing through the dimensions was normally as easy as slipping a sharp knife through tissue paper. Except this time there was a feeling of almost being stuck right before Kravitz left and re-entered the Prime Material plane, like he might not go through. Like he might get trapped on one side.

This was worrying to say the least, and Kravitz had no idea what could be the cause. The Raven Queen hadn’t sent him any messages about death being messed up in anyway, so he figured that this must be a temporary thing, or that at least dead souls weren’t being kept out of the Astral Plane.

It reminded him of that strange piece of advice the Director had given him five days ago, about how he should stay in the Prime Material plane. He wondered if this was what she meant, if it had anything to do with the universe-destroying threat that was supposed to be approaching within the next two days.

He didn’t have much more time to ponder this because at that moment, Angus appeared back in his room.

“Hello, sir! The Reclaimers aren’t here anymore.”

“Yeah, I talked to Avi,” Kravitz said. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping them on their mission?”

“Yes, but unless they call, there’s nothing for me to do.”

“Did the Director say where they went?”

“Yeah, the Felicity Wilds,” Angus said. “What do we do now? Should we go after them now?”

“I was thinking about looking at those journals you took from the Director. She didn’t suspect anything, did she?”

Angus shook his head. “But I did feel awful lying to her about it.” He looked down. “I think I prefer mysteries where I don’t investigate my friends.”

Kravitz felt he should do or say something to comfort Angus, but it had been centuries since he had really interacted with mortal children, and he didn’t know what to do. Hesitantly he placed a hand on Angus’s shoulder. “You don’t have to continue. I’ve got this covered, really, and—”

“No,” Angus said stubbornly. “I started doing this, and now I want to see it through.”

“Um, okay,” Kravitz said. “Why don’t we look at those books?”

Angus handed the one labelled 99 to Kravitz and picked up the other one himself. Kravitz flipped open the book and began.

The first bit was about the “Starblaster” arriving in a new planar system and about how they had caught the “Light of Creation” almost immediately, which apparently was a good thing. Kravitz had no idea what this Light of Creation was, and there weren’t exactly any helpful hints in the text. Presumably it had been described in earlier books, or the author had been under the assumption that their audience, whoever that may be, already knew what it was.

_ After a whole century of running, we finally have a world to call home _ , the author wrote.

Kravitz paused and frowned. Three humans and a gnome couldn’t have spent a century doing anything together. Hadn’t the Director said that all eight of them started the journey together? Or was that just an assumption that Kravitz had made? They could have been picked up along the way.

On the other hand, stating that his doppleganger might be significantly older than he looked had been covered up by voidfish static, Kravitz remembered, though that didn’t really explain how or why.

The author described how Barry split the Light of Creation into seven pieces to enact some plan to stop the “Hunger”, which Kravitz had to assume was the world-destroying monster that the Director spoke of.

And then Kravitz had to stop after reading the next paragraph, glancing back over the words to make sure he had understood them properly. Because the author explained what each member of the crew other than his doppleganger had done with their section of the Light, and there was simply  _ no way _ . He had known that the Grand Relics had been created to stop the Hunger, but not that the Reclaimers and the other four had done it.

It made a horrible sense. Kravitz remembered when the mass dyings through storms and fire and illusions-turned-real started. It had happened all at once, just over twelve years ago. He had wanted to go after the eight new weird bounties, but about a week after their names appeared, all the reapers were too busy dealing with the chaos of a world at war to chase down some impossible bounties.

The same people who now worked so hard to prevent the destruction the Relics caused had been the ones to create them. It seemed so impossible, even though every piece of evidence backed it up.

Kravitz needed to focus on something else. “Angus, how’s your book going?”

Angus was frowning at the pages. “It...it’s so strange, sir. When you said that the Reclaimers came from a different place, did you mean another universe?”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said, guiltily remembering that he hadn’t explained all of what he knew after Angus was capable of understanding it. “The Director said they were on a research mission?”

“Yes,” Angus said. “For the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. They barely made it out before some force consumed their entire reality.”

Kravitz froze. Somehow he had never thought about how being on the run through planar systems like that probably meant that crew’s home plane had been destroyed. He imagined leaving his home for a short bit only to look back and see it was all gone. Then he wondered if that was happening to the Astral Plane right now, and forced those thoughts away.

“I’ve been flipping through this book, and it seems like a research log,” Angus said. “They went through some wobbly bit of space, and then tried to go back to their home planet. When they did, they found a different world there instead, with sentient animals. I skipped to the end, and that dark force came back and destroyed that world too. I think they went to another planar system after that, though this journal ends before it really says.”

“I think they did too,” Kravitz said. “And they must have gone through a few more until they eventually reached this planar system.”

“What does your book talk about?”

Kravitz took a breath. He felt like he needed it emotionally, even though it wasn’t physically necessary. “They created the Grand Relics.”

“What?” Angus said, wide-eyed. “You mean the members of the IPRE? The Director and the Reclaimers and Davenport and everybody?”

Kravitz nodded. “Not the other Kravitz though, because apparently he died on the world they learned how to make artifacts, which I don’t even want to start unpacking... Though if their journey was a hundred years long and they’re still alive, maybe those death counts in my book are related somehow.”

Angus looked at him blankly. “So the Reclaimers went to outer space, saw their home world destroyed, travelled between planar systems for a hundred years, died multiple times, made the Grand Relics, and then  _ forgot about it? _ ”

“It seems so...”

“But why?”

Kravitz looked down at his book, flipping through a few pages. “This doesn’t really explain everything, but somehow they found this powerful source of energy and split it up to stop the Hunger, that dark force, from even coming to this planar system. The author—the Director, I suppose—is very against this idea, but she goes along with it.”

“Then...” Angus began, his eyes alight with horrified realization. “If they had to split the energy source apart to stop the Hunger from coming here, what does it mean that the Director is gathering all the pieces together again?”

Something cold and hard twisted into existence in Kravitz’s belly. “I’m going to keep reading.”

He flipped through the pages, Angus coming over to peer over his shoulder. The rest of the words detailed the horror and destruction wreaked upon the world, about Lup’s disappearance, and the steadily lowering spirits of the crew. And then the author stopped, about a third of the way through the journal.

_ I have to do something about all this. I can no longer stand back while my family suffers and the world below us tears itself apart, paying for our mistakes. This plan isn’t working, but I know the others still won’t go with mine. I’ll have to do it myself. _

_ I won’t have the time to write in these journals anymore. I suppose if everything goes right, no one will be able to read them anyway. So here ends the hundred year long journey of the Starblaster. May our future be brighter than our past.  _

Kravitz turned the page, but there was only blank space.

“What did she  _ do _ ?” Angus asked. “And what is she doing now?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem good,” Kravitz said. “She mentioned this a little when I talked to her. About how she was saving the world, but she couldn’t tell me what she was doing because I might try to stop her. If she erased the memories of everyone else, then that must mean they would try to stop her too, right? Since she was obviously lying about being unable to reverse it.”

“But it has to be better than the plan with the Grand Relics, right?” Angus asked. He didn’t look entirely sure of himself. “I mean, they destroyed so many cities...”

“I wish I could be certain about that,” Kravitz said.

“We have to tell the Reclaimers about this,” Angus said. “They’re after the sixth Relic right now.”

“It’s probably too late to stop it,” Kravitz said. It wouldn’t matter that he had no way of getting to the Reclaimers without risking being trapped in the Astral Plane if telling them wouldn’t do anything anyway. “The Director was pretty clear that something big, the Hunger coming probably, will happen in a couple days.”

“Then there’s still time!” Angus protested. “Let’s go find them!”

“Well…” Kravitz hesitated, but he could see no benefit to keeping this from Angus. “I think it’s already started. I went through the Astral Plane to get here from the hangar, and I almost got stuck trying to get through the planar barriers. I don’t think I can risk teleporting to them.”

Angus’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern. “We don’t know what the Hunger is, but if it can travel from planar system to planar system and consume them, then do you think it can separate individual planes somehow?”

“I don’t know what else could be doing it,” Kravitz said. “This has never happened before. But no matter what’s going on, I can’t teleport to the Reclaimers, and Avi didn’t seem like he would send me down there without the Director’s permission.”

“We don’t need it!” Angus said, his eyes lighting up. “I learned how to operate the canons a few months ago! All we need to do is distract Avi.”

Kravitz considered it. If Angus was operating the canon, that meant he couldn’t come along into a dangerous situation with Kravitz which made him feel a little less like a highly irresponsible adult. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

They headed straight for the hangar, but Angus stopped Kravitz from entering. “I’ve got this, sir. I’ll just tell Avi that the Director wants to see him.”

Kravitz eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure he’ll believe you?”

Angus blinked innocently at him. “Well, I couldn’t possibly be lying, could I, sir? I’m too good of a boy for that.”

Which was a fair point, since Kravitz had just assumed that Angus would make a poor liar even though now that he thought about it, he didn’t have any evidence of that. It wasn’t like this would be a dangerous situation for Angus to be getting into, and Taako had told him enough for him to know not to underestimate the kid, so Kravitz figured he could let Angus deal with this on his own. “Fine. I’ll just wait out here.”

“Well, maybe over there,” Angus said, pointing to behind a nearby tree. “So that Avi doesn’t see you when he comes out.”

“You know I can just turn invisible, right?” Kravitz said. “I still have most of my powers.” He hid his corporeal form, just to prove it.

“See you in a bit, sir!” Angus said. He marched into the hangar, his enthusiasm undeterred.

Kravitz rolled his eyes, but he waited patiently outside until he saw Avi rush out of the hangar.

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for shooting off one of the canons?” Kravitz asked when he entered the dome. Now that he was paying proper attention to the place, it seemed like it would be hard to fire one of them off in secret. Besides, Kravitz could see that the orbs were few enough in number that he was sure anyone looking through them all would notice that one was missing when it was not authorized to be.

“It’ll be fine,” Angus said from next to one of the canons. “I’m good at getting out of trouble, and it’s not like we can risk the end of the world because I don’t want to receive a lecture from the Director.” He fiddled with the controls on the canon, and the mouth shifted position by about ninety degrees.

“So I just get in one of these things?” Kravitz asked, walking toward the orb in the canon.

“Well, there’s a bit more than that.” Angus nervously ran through a few safety instructions, stuttering more and growing more run-on with each sentence.

Kravitz looked at him carefully. “Are you okay?”

Angus quickly nodded his head. “I know you won’t die, but I’ve only—I’ve only ever done this twice, and I’m scared I might—I might send you into a mountain or—or—”

“You won’t,” Kravitz said, as confidently as he could. “I’ll be perfectly fine. You didn’t mess up the last time, did you?”

“No,” Angus muttered. He didn’t appear entirely reassured, which Kravitz supposed was fair, but at least he didn’t seem quite as close to panicking anymore.

Kravitz got into the orb. Over the centuries, he had grown used to the living world changing in ways he never would have expected, but this was a strange form of transportation even for modern society. He vaguely wondered if this was one of the things the Director had picked up in her century of travel, but then he was shot through the air at terrifying speeds, and even though he knew he wouldn’t die, his thoughts couldn’t quite manage to form themselves again until his body adjusted to the sudden acceleration. Once he got used to it, he looked down at the tiny world below him. It was beautiful, the kind of sight that even his status as an immortal, Goddess-sanctioned bounty hunter had never given him the opportunity to behold.

The orb descended quickly, and when the ground began approaching with worrying levels of speed, he pulled the lever.

It slowed its descent, crashing through the branches of some trees before landing with a thump on hard ground. Kravitz climbed out, hoping for some sign of where to go next. He had no idea what kind of place the Reclaimers would be searching, or even which Relic it was. It probably wasn’t just sitting around in the middle of a bunch of trees, but looking around, Kravitz saw no sign of anything else.

There was a faint path, however, so he decided to follow that. After a minute or two it joined up with a larger path, so Kravitz figured he was probably on the right track.

Far off in the distance, a flash of red among the browns and greens caught his attention. He ran forward, hoping to see what it was before it disappeared. The path continued straight, then veered left around the place where Kravitz had lost sight of the red. He turned the corner and right into eyeshot of a lich in a bright red robe. There was only one person this could be.

“Wait!” he shouted. “Barry!”

The top of the robe twisted around to look back at him and froze.

“Wait!” Kravitz called out again before the lich could run off again. “I’m not here to hunt you down.” The words had burst out of him without thought, but Kravitz didn’t regret them. He couldn’t allow Barry to escape the Raven Queen’s judgement, but with the end of the world looming in the near future, there currently were higher priorities.

“What do you want?” Barry asked. “I’m kind of in a hurry...”

“You’re from another planar system, and the Hunger is coming to this world in a couple days,” Kravitz said because that seemed like the quickest way to grab his attention.

Barry jerked back. “How...? How did you know?”

“I broke into the Director’s rooms and read some of her journals,” Kravitz said. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the water bottle he had kept for himself. “This has the ichor of the voidfish the Director used to wipe the memories of the rest of the IPRE. I need to get it to the Reclaimers.”

The red robe was still frozen, and though Kravitz couldn’t see beneath the hood, he got the sense Barry was staring at him. This pause only lasted a second, however, and Barry made a little motion with his hand. “You’re in luck because I’m headed their way right now.”

“Oh?” Kravitz asked, as he and Barry continued down the path. “Why are you getting involved now?”

“Getting this Relic will be a doozy, and it’s sort of my fault,” Barry said. “They’re going to need help if they’re going to get out of Wonderland alive. It’s run by liches who promise people their greatest dreams if they can make it through the place, but of course it’s rigged.” Barry’s hood twisted in Kravitz’s direction by about five degrees, not quite facing him. “Maybe it’s a good thing I ran into you, if there’s other liches involved. I’m sure you have more experience fighting them than I do.”

“Have they been at this awhile?” Kravitz asked, running through his memories for anything related to liches in the Felicity Wilds, but he came up with nothing. It was possible that they were assigned to someone else, but liches that regularly interacted with other people seemed like something he should have at least been alerted about.

“They’ve been here for at least twelve years, and probably longer,” Barry said.

“Huh,” Kravitz said. They weren’t so new that he hadn’t had the chance to hear about them, though he supposed it was entirely possible that they had been around for so long that he had forgotten about them.

“They aren’t going to just let us in, especially not you, so we’re going to need to sneak in,” Barry warned. “Can you turn invisible or anything?”

Kravitz ditched his corporal form in response, dissipating the atoms into the air. He had been wearing this form a lot recently, now that he was interacting with living people more, but his more natural shape came just as easily.

“A ball of glowing soul energy. That’s real inconspicuous,” Barry drawled.

“Give me a second,” Kravitz said, and cast a spell that rendered himself invisible. He had hunted enough liches to know how to hide himself from them.

“I’ll just cast True Sight on myself...” Barry muttered before raising his volume to a regular level. “And there we go! We can see each other. How can you see liches, anyway? I should be invisible right now, and I’m pretty sure I was back at Phandalin too.”

“It’s a reaper thing,” Kravitz said. He didn’t trust Barry enough to tell him that he had bought a charm from Fantasy Costco to give him permanent True Sight. After all, once the world was saved, he might have to go back to hunting Barry down again. “How much further?”

“Just a bit,” Barry said.

They continued past the signs lining the path, stopping right in front of a black and white striped circular building. Exchanging a glance, they both stepped forward, their incorporeal bodies passing through the walls.

It was much larger than it appeared to be from the outside, and Kravitz could barely see the far wall in the dim lighting. A huge staircase curled around the center of the room, surrounded by dozens of large cylinders.

“I bet they’re in one of those,” Barry muttered, learning close to Kravitz.

Kravitz fought the urge to flinch away and nodded. He pointed at the nearest one and after waiting for Barry to nod, entered it.

The cylinder contained two orcs in full battle gear, each fighting a mannequin that Kravitz could see was spelled to look like the two orcs. One of the real people was missing a leg, and the other a hand.

“Fuck this!” one screamed as she crashed her ax down upon a mannequin who dove out of the way. A little stream of black smoke poured from her mouth, floating upward.

As soon as he and Barry stepped out of that cylinder, Kravitz whispered, “Was that black stuff energy?”

Barry nodded and shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything like it, but maybe it’s what’s powering this place.”

From this side of the cylinder, Kravitz could see that it was labelled with two names, presumably of the people inside it. Judging by the angle of the hood, Barry noticed it too, and they spent the next minute floating around the cylinders trying to find the one with the Reclaimers’ names on it.

On the eleventh cylinder they passed, Kravitz found the names and immediately dove in, finding himself in a room with brightly colored lights and a catwalk, and almost immediately he spotted his own terrified face looking up at somewhere to Kravitz’s right.

“—spent hundreds of years of learning how to make people suffer,  _ imposter _ ,” someone spat, and it was so heartrendingly familiar that Kravitz felt himself stop, like his soul had forgotten how to function for a moment.

He looked up onto the catwalk to see who had caused such a strong reaction and saw two elves, just like how he remembered them, and his mind shut off completely.

“You know,” Lydia said, turning to her brother, her voice cold and vicious. “Normally we ramp up the suffering as we go along, but I say we start right at a hundred percent and go up from there.”

Kravitz knew he should do something. He didn’t even have a body to feel disconnected from, but somehow his mind felt like it was on a separate plane of reality than the events he was observing, and he couldn’t respond to anything.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Merle protested. “It’s not our fault that one of us happens to be a lot like your long dead brother!”

It didn’t exactly snap Kravitz out of his state, but it did add to the urgency. Kravitz didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he had to do something. He had to talk to his siblings, he had to protect his new friends, he had to understand what was going on because right now his mind was a blank slate of confusion. Barely conscious of his own actions, he began drifting forward.

A flash of red entered his vision, and Kravitz saw Barry swoop in front of him, frantically waving his hand over his throat in the gesture for ‘cut it out!’ When Kravitz paused, Barry grabbed hold of him and dragged them both out of the cylinder.

“Look,” Barry said once they were out. “Those liches are powerful. If I were on my own, there’s no way I’d be able to stand up against them. I get that taking out the undead is your job, so I’m sure you’ve got a much better chance than me, but I’d really like to know what plan you have because just charging in isn’t going to do any good.”

Kravitz could hear words coming out of Barry’s mouth, and a part of him recognized that in different circumstances, he would be listening and considering them carefully, but right now his mind was still swirling around, caught in the gravity of a much more weighty matter.

“Hey, um, I don’t know your name? Reaper man? Are you listening?”

Barry deserved some kind of explanation, Kravitz thought. He forced his mouth to push something out. “They’re... they’re my siblings. Those liches are my siblings.”

The hood of the red robe drew back slightly. “Oh shit...”

Distantly, Kravitz realized that this was probably the reason he had never heard of liches in the Felicity Wilds. The Raven Queen would have assigned the case to someone who wasn’t emotionally involved and have kept him far from it. But even this seemed unimportant with everything else going on.

“Do you want to talk to them?” Barry asked. “Or leave? I can handle this on my own, if it’s too much for you.”

Kravitz had known that his siblings were delving into the necromantic arts—that was what had caused his mess of an afterlife, after all. He knew that the Raven Queen’s judgement would fall far more harshly upon them than it had on him when they were eventually caught. But he hadn’t known that they had gone this far, that they would turn themselves into liches. And he didn’t know if he could bring himself to be the one to sentence them to an eternity of suffering.

“I know I just said I couldn’t take them out on my own, but I can sneak the voidfish liquor to the Reclaimers and they’ll be much more powerful after that, so we could manage. Reaper guy? I’m going to need an answer. My friends are in danger, and we’re the only ones who can get them out.”

“I—what?” Kravitz said, trying to force his mind into the present. He had to protect his friends, that much was clear. Everything else could come later.

“Do you want to let me take care of this?” Barry asked patiently.

“No,” Kravitz said. This was personal business, especially now that they were threatening people he cared about. He understood why the Raven Queen would never let him in on this case, but he also knew he couldn’t step out of this conflict now. He took the mental equivalent of a deep breath to center himself and turned back around to face the cylinder his friends were in. “I can do this.”

“Uh... If you’re sure...” Barry muttered, but he didn’t try to stop Kravitz as he floated back into the room.

Materializing his actual physical body would be a lot of effort on such a short notice, but Kravitz formed the illusion of himself around his soul as he reached the center of the room, shouting “Stop!” as Edward and Lydia swung around to face him.

“Oh thank Pan,” Kravitz though he heard his doppleganger mutter.

“Another one?” Edward snarled. “You can’t fool us this time.” He snapped his fingers, and bolt of fire shot out at Kravitz.

“How did you get in here without us noticing?” Lydia demanded.

Kravitz materialized scythe and swung it, batting the fire bolt out of the air. Both Lydia and Edward froze as they stared at his scythe. Normally Kravitz felt smug and amused when the people he was after realized what he was. All except the most arrogant or ignorant showed a flash of fear or shock when they saw a reaper was out to get them. But the fury on both his older siblings faces, directed at him, made Kravitz want to cry for the first time in hundreds of years.

“How  _ dare _ you take his face?” Edward whispered with the kind of rage that made Kravitz feel as scared and helpless as a toddler.

“I  _ am _ him,” Kravitz said. His voice was trembling. He wasn’t even aware that could happen to him anymore, now that he didn’t need vocal cords to talk. “I’m Keats.”

Lydia snorted so fiercely it almost came out as a sob. “You’re the second person to come here looking like our long dead brother in the past hour, and you expect us to believe it’s some coincidence? He was a fake and you are too. Our brother wouldn’t be a  _ reaper _ .”

“Of course I’m a reaper!” Kravitz said. It wasn’t proper reaper protocol to argue with marks unnecessarily, but these were his siblings. If they were going to have to fight, he wanted them to know exactly who they were up against. And maybe if he could just distract them long enough, Barry could get the Reclaimers out of there, and Kravitz could find some way to avoid fighting them in the first place. It was the sort of naive hope that he hadn’t entertained since his earliest days of taking down necromancers, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What did you think would happen when you tried to force me into immortality?!” Kravitz shouted, taken aback by his own anger. He had thought he had gotten over his resentment centuries ago, but seeing his siblings now brought it back. “You know what the Queen does to people who try to cheat death! The only reason I’m not in the Eternal Stockade right now is because I didn’t go into this willingly!”

“You think that was an accident?” Edward shot back. “We knew what we were doing! If we failed or you got caught, we would take the blame instead of you!”

Kravitz froze. He had always assumed this loophole by which the Raven Queen had given him his freedom was accidental, that his siblings had been so fearful for his life that they had invaded his rights without a second thought and that it was only luck that made it turn out so well. This didn’t change anything, not really, but somehow it felt like it did.

“Then what did you think would happen next?” Kravitz asked, his voice breaking halfway through. “I was half un-dead, but the Raven Queen couldn’t imprison me because I was innocent. What else could she do but make me one of her reapers?”

“You’re really him, aren’t you,” Edward murmured, arms dangling loosely by his sides, no longer poised to cast some spell at Kravitz.

“He can’t be!” Lydia cried. “What about the other one? Two of them in one day, Ed. There’s no way this isn’t a trap!”

“He’s me from another universe,” Kravitz said. “I’m his friend, which is why I’m here now. To rescue him. It’s not some weird coincidence.”

“But...” Lydia said, making no move to add another word to the start of that sentence. She stared at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“You’re a reaper,” Edward said. He was no longer looking at Kravitz, and his lich form was sagging downwards. “And you’re here to take us in.”

Kravitz opened his mouth to agree, but he couldn’t. “I... I serve the Raven Queen now.” It was more of a reminder to himself than anyone else.

“Prove to me you’re really him,” Lydia whispered. “Your story makes more sense than the imposter’s, but I have to know. What were the last words we said to you?”

It had been hundreds of years ago, and by this point Kravitz had forgotten a lot of details from his time alive. But his last memory before his death was seared into his soul. “You said you were going to make things right. I was half-delusional from the fever, and I had no idea what was going on. But you told me that everything would be okay, and you both sang me one of mama’s songs to calm me.  _ ‘The sun will rise before your eyes; a new life starts tomorrow _ .’”

“Keats?” Edward whispered.

Kravitz’s throat was all choked up. He could only nod.

“We failed you,” Lydia whispered. “We’re your older siblings, we were supposed to protect you. But we didn’t manage that. All we did was make your death more complicated. And I’m so sorry.”

Kravitz couldn’t just forgive them, especially since as a reaper he could not condone necromancy at all, but things had turned out well for him, all things considered. He might not have always felt this way, but he wouldn’t go back and change it all if he was somehow given the opportunity to.

“Just—Are you happy?” Edward asked. “As a reaper? With these people as your friends?” He waved his hand at where the Reclaimers had been standing. They weren’t there anymore, and probably hadn’t been for awhile, but Kravitz wasn’t all that surprised. Judging by Edward and Lydia’s resigned expressions of annoyance, they weren’t either.

“Yes. I think I am.”

“I’m glad,” Edward said, giving Kravitz a fragile grin. “It wasn’t in the way we thought you would, but it looks like you’ve grown up and gotten a life of your own. So to speak.”

Centuries of being a reaper meant that Kravitz had heard all the death puns, but he still cracked a smile. Edward was his older brother, after all, and he hadn’t heard one of his awful jokes in far too long.

Kravitz wondered what would happen now, if his siblings would ask him to let them go, if Kravitz would comply if they did. But neither of them said anything, both just staring at him like they never wanted to stop looking at him.

“I... can’t just let you off the hook,” Kravitz said, the roots of a plan coming together in his mind.

Lydia and Edward continued to stare, expressions unreadable.

“But I was never assigned to your case, and you’re not my biggest priority right now. You have some powerful artifact right? That you came across sometime in the last twelve years?”

“Yes, the Animus Bell,” Lydia said. “That’s what the others were after.”

“Yeah, that,” Kravitz agreed, remembering the name from the Director’s journal. “We need it to save the world. If you give it to me, I can say that the only way I could get ahold of it was by letting you escape. It’ll buy you a couple days head start. That’s the best I can do.”

“You can’t just ‘forget’ to tell the Raven Queen you ran into us?” Edward tried.

Kravitz shook his head. “I can’t lie to her or keep secrets, and I wouldn’t want to. But this is the truth, right? You wouldn’t give me the Animus Bell if I was going to drag you down to the Astral Plane the second I had it in my hands.”

“Probably not,” Lydia said, and Kravitz had no idea whether she was lying to preserve his story, or if it was the truth.

“Will you take my deal?” Kravitz asked, hoping desperately that they would. He couldn’t offer them anything better, and he also knew that he wouldn’t be able to bring them back to the Astral Plane himself.

Lydia and Edward finally looked away from him to exchange a glance. “Yes,” they said in unison.

Edward reached into the folds of his cape and pulled out the bell. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Kravitz said, reaching out to it. He hesitated before his illusory hand could touch the bell. It felt like there was something more he should say, but he didn’t know what. He grabbed the bell anyway, using magic so he didn’t just pass right through it. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but I’m glad I saw you one last time.”

Lydia leaned forward to place a hand on his cheek, and a moment later, Edward wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Both touches were barely more than the faintest of breezes. “Us too, Keats,” she whispered, and then both of them were gone.

The colored lights that had been casting bright circles on the walls and walkway shut off, leaving only the cold, yellow overhead light. Kravitz wanted to stand there forever, his mind full with too many thoughts and emotions for him to process. But right now, the planar system needed saving, so he slipped out of the room to go find the rest of his team.

* * *

 

The moment Keats arrived, all of Edward and Lydia’s fury switched onto him, and Kravitz and the other Reclaimers were immediately ignored. Kravitz felt sorry that this other version of himself had to face the untempered rage of people he loved and looked up to, but mostly he felt relieved that there was someone here who was more equipped to handle the liches.

Kravitz took a breath, trying to stop the lingering shakiness in his limbs from when Lydia and Edward’s attention had been focused on him. He could face city-destroying Relics with little problem, but not alternate versions of his own siblings. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on Taako’s solid hand wrapped around his arm.

The hand tugged at him, and Kravitz opened his eyes.

On the other side of the catwalk, hidden from Lydia and Edward but still barely in sight of the Reclaimers, was the Red Robe they had encountered three times so far. Kravitz had no idea what he was doing there, but at this point, he wasn’t too surprised to see him. The Red Robe had showed up for the last three Relics they had gone after. A skeletal hand was peeking out of the deep folds, beckoning them over.

Kravitz looked at the rest of his team for input. Magnus shrugged and started heading over. After exchanging glances, the rest followed.

“What are you doing here?” Merle hissed at the Red Robe, once they were behind the catwalk. Lydia, Edward, and Keats were still talking somewhere above them, and they didn’t seem to have noticed the Reclaimers wandering off.

“I know you don’t trust me,” the Red Robe said in a quieter version of that weird echo-y voice of his. “But I came here with the reaper guy to help you.”

“At this point, I don’t know who to trust,” Taako muttered. “If you can get us out of here, that’s good enough for me.”

“I can do that,” the Red Robe said.

“So what’s the plan?” Kravitz asked.

“Just give me a minute.” The Red Robe began casting an unfamiliar spell, directing it at the area in front of him. A comfy-looking arm chair appeared there, which then vanished and was replaced by a set of drawers, and then a lamp, and so on through a series of various random objects, each replacing the one before it. Kravitz stared at the whole scene for a long moment, but he couldn't figure out what was supposed to be happening.

After a bit, Magnus took a few steps away from the Red Robe, who didn't seem to notice. He beckoned the others towards him, then leaned in close and whispered, “I know the Director warned us away from the Red Robes, but she’s lied to us about a lot of other stuff, and I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. Especially with that picture of me in the red robe that June showed me and everything.”

“Do we have any other choice?” Merle asked. “I mean it’s him or those demon twins over there.” He looked at Kravitz. “No offense.”

“Well, I was thinking about even after we get out of here,” Magnus said. “I think he’s worth listening to.”

“I don’t think we should follow him blindly, but other than what the Director said, we don’t have any reason to think he’s evil,” Kravitz said. “He has to have some answers. I want to know what the Director has against him, at the very least.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Magnus said.

“Like I said,” Taako said, shrugging. “I don’t know who to trust anymore, and he’s no worse than anyone else.”

“Fair enough,” Merle said.

On the other side of the room, the siblings were talking in softer tones now. Kravitz couldn’t tell if Lydia and Edward believed Keats really was their younger brother or not, but at least they didn’t seem about to break out into a fight. It seemed to be a rather personal conversation, and Kravitz tried to listen to it as little as possible, though it was hard to do when they were the only ones speaking in this silent room.

“What were the last words we said to you?” Lydia asked after a bit, loudly enough for Kravitz to hear her clearly.

Keats replied, and it was completely different than Kravitz's earlier guess. He felt a bit better knowing that the true answer wasn’t something he would have been able to come up with on his own, though he did recognize the song.

That seemed to win Lydia and Edward over, and Kravitz felt a flash of relief that at least Keats would be properly recognized by his older siblings.

“I almost got it...” the Red Robe whispered, as a window appeared then was replaced by a large painting. Kravitz had absolutely no idea what the Red Robe was doing, and for all he knew it was a trap or trick of some sort, but it wasn’t like there was much else he could do. Besides, if he had come with Keats, he had to be somewhat trustworthy. As a reaper, Keats would have needed a very good reason to work with an undead being.

“I... can’t just let you off the hook,” Keats said from across the room. 

Kravitz had no idea how Edward and Lydia would react, not these alternate versions of his siblings who had spent the last several hundred years practicing necromancy and luring travellers to their place to torture them. He didn’t think they would start a fight, at least not immediately, but the sooner the Reclaimers were out of there, the better, he figured.

“There!” the Red Robe hissed, and a large door popped into existence. “Get in!”

Without another second of consideration, the four of them rushed through into a large space with dozens of giant cylinders in the same shape and size as the room they had been in. The Red Robe closed the door behind them, and the sound from Keats talking suddenly cut off.

“Okay, what now?” Merle asked, one eyebrow raised at the Red Robe.

“I’m not sure,” the Red Robe said. “You’re here for the Animus Bell, right? Those liches have it, but I don’t think we should interrupt their conversation. You know that reaper, right? What’s his name again?”

“Kravitz,” Kravitz answered.

“Wait really?” The Red Robe looked as taken aback as a bunch of red cloth could.

“Yeah, we think he’s a different version of me or something,” Kravitz said.

“Oh, that explains why he looked like you. That makes sense...” the Red Robe murmured, though Kravitz couldn’t see how it possibly did. “I wondered about that, but I didn’t want to be rude. Wow, the odds of that happening... Wait, does that mean the liches are Edward and Lydia?”

Taako narrowed his eyes. “How do you not know what Skull-Man’s name is, but you know his siblings'?”

“I can’t explain it,” the Red Robe said.

“Suuure,” Merle said.

“No, I literally can’t. See, listen.” The Red Robe continued to speak, but only static came out of his mouth, just like all those times with Keats.

“What the fuck,” Magnus said.

“Everything will be clear very soon,” the Red Robe said. “As soon as the other Kravitz gets here, we can explain it all.”

“I hope so,” Taako muttered. “I’ve been waiting for answers for a long time.”

It struck Kravitz then that if Keats could somehow get rid of whatever block that prevented Kravitz from comprehending the reason for his existence, everything would change. The anticipation, the pressure of not knowing, had been piling up for months. The answers were all so close to being within grasp, and it was only his physical brain that prevented him from reaching it. Now there was a strong possibility for it all to be revealed soon, and Kravitz found himself terrified of the hope building up in his chest.

“I have the Relic,” a voice said from near the cylinder they had just exited. A moment later, Keats' body took shape, holding an intricate bell in one hand. Keats had never been the most liveliest of people, but something about the way his shoulders slumped and the way his eyes looked so dead twisted a knot of concern in Kravitz’s belly. There was too much going on now, but when they got the chance, he would pull Keats aside to ask him about Edward and Lydia and how he was faring.

“Wow, thanks!” Magnus said. “Easiest quest yet!”

“I guess all that extra training the Director gave us was for nothing,” Merle said.

Maybe it was easy for  _ you _ , Kravitz thought. He had definitely had a rather rough time of it, and judging from Keats’ expression, it was ten times worse for him. But his friends didn’t deserve that bitterness, so he said nothing.

“Does anyone have a safe place to put it?” Barry asked.

“I dunno about safe, but we’ve just been using our packs for most of the Relics,” Merle said, swinging his bag around his shoulders and opening it. “You can just stuff it in there.”

Keats hesitated for a long moment. “It’s just... Death is so unfair if you think about it. I was dying, so my siblings turned to necromancy and now they’re liches and have to be punished for eternity. My doppleganger’s siblings are the same people, but because they never had to make that choice, they’re fine. And I’ve been doing this job for ages, and there’s so many victims who deserved better than what they got and criminals who shouldn’t have had to make the choices they did, and that isn’t right! I could... I could use this to do something about that! I’m just saying, we should consider our options here, and—”

Kravitz’s stomach dropped. “You’d betray your goddess like that?”

Keats froze, bitterness crawling across his face, and for one horrifying second, Kravitz was certain he would say yes, but before Keats could open his mouth, Barry snatched the Relic out of his hand and dropped it into Merle’s bag.

“I don’t think you really want that,” Barry said, as Kravitz let out a shaky breath of relief.

“I—” Keats said, looking as if his mind was rebooting. “But all the changes I could make!”

“How would the Bell be able to help with that?” Barry asked. “You don’t know what it does, but I do, and sure you could bring some people back or kill some others, but it doesn’t have the power to change the whole system of dying.”

Kravitz wondered how Barry could know anything about the Relic when even the Bureau had almost nothing on it, but then he remembered how the Director said the Red Robes had created the Relics. Was that another of her lies or part of the truth? He wanted to ask, but there was also the possibility that Barry was bluffing to get Keats to stop going after it, and he wouldn’t want to ruin that.

“Anyway, didn’t you have something else you wanted to give to these guys?” Barry asked.

“Um, yes,” Keats said reluctantly, though he was still eyeing Merle’s bag in a way that made Kravitz a little worried. “But I think we should get everyone out of Wonderland first.”

“Are the liches...?” Barry began.

“They’re gone,” Keats said shortly.

Helping everyone flee Wonderland turned out to be very simple, now that Lydia and Edward’s magic didn’t seem to be holding everything together anymore. The place simply disappeared a moment later, leaving everyone outside in the clearing. Kravitz wanted to ask Keats how he came to that arrangement, if Lydia and Edward were in the Eternal Stockade or gone or what, but with everyone rushing around, he didn’t get the chance.

“Okay,” Magnus said, the second they had wandered far enough out into the forest to be alone. “The Red Robe promised us some answers, and I’d like to hear them  _ before _ the world ends, if possible.” Despite the somewhat teasing quality in the words of his request, Magnus’s eyes were stone. He was the one who saw the picture of himself in a red robe, and he was the one who had the most to lose if it turned out large chunks of his past was a lie, Kravitz thought.

Keats handed him a water bottle. “Drink this.”

Without hesitation, Magnus screwed the top off and took a large gulp, passing the bottle to Taako who was the nearest. Taako eyed it then looked at Keats before finally taking a sip. Kravitz reached for the bottle almost before Taako was done, swallowing a mouthful before handing it to Merle.

It was the strangest sensation, like a fog had been lifted somewhere in the back of his mind, and even though he wouldn’t be able to articulate a single answer to his endless questions without some serious digging, the world seemed to slot into place a little more. It felt like the past decade of his life had been spent listening to an orchestra from the basement of the theater, muffled and a little fuzzy, but now he had stepped into the auditorium to hear the song in perfect clarity. For the first time in twelve years, the world felt like it might make some sense after all.

“Be careful, don’t think too hard about your memories,” the Red Robe warned. His name was Barry, Kravitz realized, but almost as soon as he did, his head began to ache. “Go slow. If you try to remember everything at once, it’ll hurt. Just focus on my voice.”

Kravitz tried to do as Barry said. He closed his eyes, reaching for Taako’s hand and squeezing tight.

“I’m going to walk you through what’s been erased, so just let your mind fill in the blanks and try not to skip ahead, okay?” the Red Robe said. “Okay, so we were all born on a planet with a purple sky and two suns.”

And suddenly the image of his home popped into Kravitz’s mind. He could picture looking out behind his mothers’ farm, two suns peaking up above the mountains, the sky the most beautiful shades of blue and red, fading into purple, that Kravitz had ever seen. This was his home; how could he have forgotten? He had watched the suns rise so many times there. Of course it had looked like this, not those sunrises with two suns that turned into blue skies that he had sort of assumed them to be before.

Barry continued, describing the IPRE, the mission to explore their planar system, the crew that had travelled the Starblaster. At the mention of Lup, Taako gasped, and  _ of course he had a sister! _ Kravitz clung tighter and hoped Taako understood his wordless support.

Barry spoke of their hundred year long journey, of fleeing the Hunger, of becoming a lich, of all the information they learned from the Light of Creation and John. He described the last planar system, how they had created the Relics and set them loose on the world. He explained what he thought Lucretia had done, Keats filling in a few blanks from his conversation with her and his examination of her private quarters.

When Barry stopped, Kravitz opened his eyes, and it felt like reaching the surface of an ocean, reality rushing in to meet him as he figuratively gasped for breath and scrambled to stay afloat.

“Well, fuck,” Magnus said, which summed everything up so perfectly that Kravitz couldn’t help but giggle, though he quickly stopped because this was a serious situation. It wasn’t like he was the only member in this group to respond to stressful situations with laughter (he was sure that Keats was the same, if no one else), but it still felt wildly inappropriate.

“That’s… quite a bit more than I expected,” Keats said quietly. “It explains a lot.”

“They—Lup!” Taako hissed. He turned to Keats. “You said Lucretia did this? She—I trusted her, and she took away  _ everything _ from me! Send me up to the fucking moon, because we need to talk.” There was a venom in his voice that Kravitz had never heard, not once in their one hundred and one years together. It frightened him, but he couldn’t exactly blame Taako.

Kravitz was hardly unaffected himself. He had spent a hundred years growing close to all of the other members of the Starblaster, to the point where they meant more to him than the family he had been born with did. Then that was taken away, leaving him a shell of a person wandering purposeless for years until he ran into his family and tried to rebuild those soul-deep bonds in the space of the old ones. Lucretia had taken a lot from him, but even with all that, he couldn’t even be properly angry at her because now that he remembered, he was struck by how much he missed her.

It was nothing compared to what Taako felt, he was sure. Kravitz hadn’t lost someone who had been there for him throughout his entire life, someone he had built his sense of self around. But it still hurt, and he understood why Taako would react stronger.

“Taako, I know you’ve lost so much, and you have every right to be angry,” Magnus said, his voice steady with a maturity Kravitz hadn’t heard in over a decade. “But the world is ending, and we can’t just go off and fight the Director.”

“Damn right I’m angry!” Taako snapped. “This world can burn for all I care, if it means I get my sister back!”

Everyone went still and silent, staring at Taako. Kravitz didn’t have the faintest idea of how to make any part of this situation better. This world remaining undestroyed was very important to him, but he knew that saying so right now would be incredibly unhelpful.

“Look, if you want to save the world, I’ll go along with it,” Taako said after a moment, the anger starting to drain out of his voice. “But right now, I have nothing, and I don’t give a shit. The world is ending, and I. Don't. Care.”

“Why don’t we discuss this somewhere else?” Barry said. “I have something to get back to about a day’s journey from here. And I think you could all use some time to process everything.”

Kravitz stood up as Taako did, but once they were upright, Taako pulled away from him. “Taako—” he tried, but Taako shook his head.

“Don’t. I—can’t.”

Kravitz nodded. An hour ago, he wouldn’t have known what to do, but now with a hundred years behind the two of them, he knew that sometimes Taako needed to be left alone. It didn’t make him feel less helpless, but at least he had confidence that he was making the right choice.

Which lead him to a whole other train of thought that Kravitz was definitely going to have to think over in greater detail later and also probably talk to Taako about. While there was something sweet about them still getting together after their memories had been wiped, part of Kravitz felt rather unsettled by the whole thing. So much had been taken from him, and this was just one more thing on top of it all, but he was still angry about everything he had lost and had to try and rebuild for himself.

And he didn’t know quite where he stood with Taako either. Starting back where they left off before their memory wipe didn’t make sense, with all that had changed for them and their situation in the intervening decade, but neither did continuing the exact same relationship they had been building the second time around. He would definitely have to have a conversation about this later.

It explained a lot though, once he thought about it. No wonder he had started falling in love with Taako so soon after they met. No wonder their first relationship felt so hollow; even if Kravitz couldn’t remember it, part of him must have known that they meant so much more to each other than just goofs and kisses.

The six of them began heading out of Wonderland, out into the Felicity Wilds. Barry seemed to have a pretty good idea of where they were heading, so they followed him with little conversation.

It didn’t take long for the group to slowly drift apart from each other. They were all still heading in the same direction, but the path was too narrow for anyone to accidentally lose the group, and everyone looked too lost in their thoughts to bother making sure they were less than a few feet from each other.

Kravitz made his way over to Keats. “How are you holding up? Seeing Edward and Lydia again must have been a lot to deal with.”

Keats startled at his voice. “Well, I suppose in a way they are also your siblings too. It can’t have been fun to see your dead siblings again only to have them try to torture you for impersonating yourself.”

“And it can’t have been fun to reunite with your siblings when your job is to trap people like them in ghost jail,” Kravitz countered. “And my real siblings aren’t dead, I don’t think. We’re not entirely sure what happens to those swallowed by the Hunger, but they don't die. I just forgot the reason I couldn’t see them anymore and assumed they died.”

“I suppose we’ve all gone through a lot today,” Keats said. “Thanks for checking up on me. I’m not fine, but I’ll manage.”

Kravitz supposed that was the best that could be said for anyone. “What happened to them? Are they...?”

“No,” Keats said, shaking his head. “I proved I really was their brother. They said they would give me the Animus Bell if I let them go. The end of the world is a bigger priority than two liches, no matter how much trouble they’ve been causing, so I took the deal. When this is all over, I’ll write a report to the Raven Queen, and she’ll probably send some people after them again. It was the best possible option.”

Which still didn’t mean it was a good one. Kravitz put a hand on Keats’ shoulder. Since Keats had done that at least once to try to comfort Kravitz, he figured the other way around would be okay. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah...” Keats said. He shrugged, but it was gentle enough not to dislodge the hand. “Why don’t you tell me more about your life, now that you can remember all of it? I still have a few clues that don’t fit into the story yet.”

Kravitz started talking as memories that hadn’t been accessible before came pouring in. With Keats’ prompting, he spoke of his time at the IPRE, training for the interplanar mission, getting to know the other members of his crew, his long journey and the worlds he visited, and the family he found himself a part of. By the time they stopped for the night, his throat was starting to get sore.

They set up camp, then woke up early the next day, continuing further towards the caves near Phandalin until they reached Barry’s hideout where he clearly had been keeping track of the Bureau for a while.

It was a bit creepy that Barry was regrowing his body in a tank, but Kravitz had seen a lot worse things travelling with him through dimensions for a hundred years. He was much more worried about Keats, who was glaring at Barry like he wanted to reap him right then and there.

“I won’t remember anything when I'm in this body, so you’ll have to give me the voidfish stuff,” Barry said, not seeming to have noticed Keats. “Sooner would be better, so that the memories coming back will be less of a shock.”

“Gotcha,” Magnus said.

Keats was slumped against a wall, his face buried in his hands. “I have to let this necromancy go this time, but I hope you know that the Raven Queen is absolutely going to give you hell for this.”

Barry looked unconcerned. “A problem for the future, then. I’ll see you on the other side.” He lowered himself into the tank, his bright red outline disappearing within the eerie green liquid. A moment later, the tank split open, spilling liquid all over the floor as a naked Barry stumbled out.

“I’m… I don’t remember what I did last night, but I must have partied pretty hard to end up like, like this. Who are you guys and, um, also, can I borrow some clothes or something?”

“Here you go!” Magnus said, handing Barry the bottle with the remaining voidfish ichor.

“Uhh...” Barry said, eyeing Magnus oddly. “You do know that I can’t wear water, right?"

“Man, I forgot how much of an asshole memory-less Barry is,” Merle muttered.

“Just drink this and it will all make sense,” Kravitz promised. “Then we’ll give you clothes.”

“Why the fuck are there two of you?” Barry asked. “And why should I trust you! That drink could be poisoned for all I know!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Taako muttered. He opened the chest that Barry had pointed out and tossed a pair of pants at him. “Now will you just drink the voidfish juice already?”

“Nice umbrella,” Barry murmured as he put on his pants.

Taako froze. It had been Lup’s originally, Kravitz remembered, his heart twisting at the realization. Taako had been carrying his sister’s staff this whole time without even knowing. That red robe Taako had gotten the staff from must have been Lup, Kravitz realized with horror. They had seen her remains and treated it with disdain, not realizing who it had belonged to. If Lup was dead, then why hadn’t she joined up with them in lich form? Something must have gone horribly wrong, and Kravitz couldn’t imagine what it could possibly be.

He had just had that thought when a stream of sparks flew out from the tip of his Umbra Staff, bouncing harmlessly off the floor.

“I didn’t do that!” Taako said, wide-eyed as everyone stared at his umbrella, an echo of what he said when it tried to kill Keats four months ago. “It wasn’t me!”

“What’s going on?” Barry demanded.

“Drink the water and everything will make sense!” Kravitz said, not bothering to check and see whether he obeyed or not.

“I thought it was just because of Barry,” Keats said slowly. “But I’m sensing that same lich presence that I did back on the moon and in the lab.” If there was another lich in this room, it probably wasn’t Edward or Lydia. And if it wasn’t attacking anyone, perhaps it was Lup? Unless Keats was confused and the lich he felt had been Barry the whole time. After all, they had run into him in the Miller Lab. Kravitz hoped that somehow it was Lup, that she was still around after over eleven years of being missing.

“Oh shit!” Taako jerked back, his eyes fixed firmly on the umbrella. “This thing swallows the magic of defeated magic users, right?”

“Yes?” Magnus said.

The echo of an idea was starting to form in Kravitz’s mind, but he couldn’t quite pull the pieces together enough yet to understand where Taako was going with this. 

“Lup,” Taako murmured. Then louder, he said, “I am such a fucking idiot.” And then he snapped the Umbra Staff over his knee.

It exploded into flame, a wave of force sending everyone flying back. Kravitz stumbled over a chair, and once he managed to catch his balance and look up, he saw Taako collapsed against the edge of the cave, the umbrella pieces dropped where he had been standing before.

“Kravitz, you’re the grim reaper?!” Lup exclaimed, her shadowy form outlined in fire.

It had been so long since Kravitz had heard her voice, and the boisterous joy in her entrance made him want to laugh and cry all at the same time. He had met the other members of their family while still unaware of the century they had spent together, and although seeing them again had felt oddly comforting, it was nothing like this. He was so glad to see her again, but knowing all the time she had been away, knowing that she had been trapped for so long, knowing her significance in his life that he hadn’t been aware of for so long, made it all so joyously painful.

“Lup, you know that’s not—” Kravitz weakly protested. His mind felt too scattered by Lup’s reappearance to properly finish that sentence. “Alternate versions...”

“I missed you so much,” Taako said, and he was openly weeping but there was a huge grin on his face, bigger than Kravitz had seen in this planar system. “Even when I didn't remember you, I missed you.”

“I was with you for a whole year, doofus,” she said. Her tone was light, but Kravitz had known her for a century, and he could read her voice better than his own. If she wasn't a lich at the moment, Kravitz was sure that she would also be crying. “You didn't get  _ any _ of my messages.”

“I’m sorry,” Taako whispered. He reached up towards her, and Lup extinguished her flames, reaching her hands out too, passing right through his.

“Lup,” Barry murmured, and Kravitz saw the bottle he held, the amount of voidfish ichor in it slightly less than it had been before. “I—Just give me a second, I’ll kill myself so I can hold you again.”

“Nah, Barold,” Lup said, her smile dazzling in its brightness. “Not after all the time you spent growing this hot bod.”

“Hey,” Magnus said, waving at Lup. “Long time no see.”

“It’s good to be back,” Lup said. She turned to Keats. “So you’re Kravitz number two. Sorry for almost killing you a couple months ago.”

Keats buried his face in his hands again. “I really can’t approve of another lich... but this’ll all have to wait until after the apocalypse.”

“Speaking of, we should really do something about that,” Lup said, her voice turning serious. “We can all catch up afterwards.”

“What are we going to do?” Keats asked. “I mean, I know we can’t let Lucretia fulfill her plans, but other than the eight of you running away, what else is there to do?”

“We’re not running away this time,” Magnus said. “I’ve had enough of running, and I’m not leaving the planar system my wife is in.”

Kravitz had known that Magnus had a wife, but now that he remembered knowing Magnus for an entire century, this old knowledge took a new tone of surprise. 

“I think we’re going to have to go back to the moonbase," he said. "We need our captain back, and whatever happens, I’d rather have the other members of the Bureau of Balance on our side than not.”

“And Lucretia owes me a conversation,” Taako said, his voice tight and cold. Kravitz looked at him with worry, but he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t begrudge Taako his anger, even though he knew seeing him fight with Lucretia would tear his heart.

“Well, let’s call the orb,” Merle said, pressing the button on his bracer. 

They all awkwardly stood there for a bit, then Taako and Lup turned away from the others to hold their own conversation, catching each other up on everything they had missed in their decade apart. It seemed personal, even if not private, so Kravitz didn’t try to join, as much as he wanted to speak to Lup again.

After another minute or two, the orb landed, and Kravitz realized there was a bit of a problem.

“How are we all going to fit in?” The first time Kravitz had ever gotten in one of these, there had been five of them and he had ended up sitting in Taako’s lap. It was an uncomfortable fit, and he couldn’t imagine how they would cram seven people in now, even if one of them was currently incorporeal.

“I can just meet you up th—” Keats said immediately, before frowning. “Or... actually... not.”

“Why not?” Magnus asked. “Can’t you just like teleport and stuff?”

“Normally,” Keats said. “But I don’t think I could now. The last time I tried, I almost got stuck in the Astral Plane, and that was a day ago.”

“Oh yeah!” Kravitz said. “I forgot the Hunger did that.”

They ended up sticking Barry and Keats into Taako’s pocket spa, and the rest of them fit more-or-less comfortably in the orb. Lup let her ghostly form stick halfway out the wall in order to keep her “personal bubble,” sparking a series of jokes.

“You know, with being an undead lich and everything, it’s like I’m stuck between two worlds,” Lup drawled dramatically, waving her hand through the wall for emphasis.

Kravitz had never appreciated Lup’s terrible jokes much during their century together, but now it made him want to smile. He ducked his head down so she wouldn’t see, and listened to her chatter the whole way back to the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wizards can't cast the spell Detect Poison and Disease in dnd (which Angus uses to check the voidfish ichor), but the McElroys break the rules all the time, and you can't tell me that if Taako was capable of performing this spell it wouldn't be one of the first ones he teaches Angus.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally expected this chapter to be finished like a month and a half ago, rip

Kravitz had been in a lot of weird situations, but hanging out with a lich in a pocket-sized spa while travelling to a secret moonbase had to be somewhere near the top. Barry had shucked off most of his clothes and jumped into the jacuzzi almost immediately, but Kravitz had hung back. They were working on the same side at the moment, but Kravitz felt very aware that this person was supposed to be his enemy.

“You don’t have to stand there looking uncomfortable,” Barry said. “I swear I won’t go evil lich on you if you join me.”

Not really seeing any options that wouldn’t be socially awkward, Kravitz got into the hot tub.

“So,” Kravitz said, casting around for a conversation topic. The silence between them felt too awkward and tense, and he might as well make use of this time to clarify a few things he still had questions on. He tried to keep his tone light and conversational. “I know the IPRE all got their high death counts during your interplanar voyage, but how exactly did you come back to life all those times?”

“I guess your Queen wants an explanation, huh,” Barry said.

“As do I,” Kravitz said. “I’ve been trying to track you all down for over a decade trying to find answers.”

“Is that how you came across the Reclaimers in the first place?” Barry asked. “Not to get too sidetracked, but why aren’t you going after them? I would have thought dying multiple times would be a no-go.”

“I did try to drag them to the Astral Plane when we first met,” Kravitz admitted. “I was responsible for Merle losing his arm. But they didn’t seem to know anything, and they helped me out of a tight spot, so I let them go. Then the next time I talked to them, they were Istus’s emissaries and under her protection.”

“Oh really?” Barry asked. “That’s a first. We’ve made arrangements with lots of gods in different planes, but I don’t think any of us have ever spoken to Istus.” 

“Have you ever ‘made arrangements’ with the Raven Queen?” Kravitz asked, curious despite himself.

“Yeah, you aren’t the first reaper to come after us because of our death crimes,” Barry said. “We’ve always managed to avoid them for the year we were in their planar system or else come to some agreement with the Raven Queen.”

“Yeah, I think the Director mentioned something like that.” Or at least she had mentioned running into other reapers.

“But sorry, back to your original question,” Barry said. “At the start of every cycle, every time we entered a new planar system, our bodies reset to how they had been when we first left our planar system. If we were injured, we would be healed. If we were dead, we could come back. We never aged or changed past what could happen in one year.”

“Why did that happen?” Kravitz asked, his brain slotting everything together. This explained why his doppleganger was older than he looked, but not why Barry and Lup were liches. Were all of them liches or just the two of them?

“It has to do with the bond engine that powered our ship, but the science is a bit complicated, and I’m not sure you want to hear all of it.”

“Maybe another time,” Kravitz agreed, though he didn’t really feel satisfied by that answer. “But what about you and Lup? Why are you liches?”

Barry sighed. “I know— I know you don’t trust me because of it. And I guess that’s fair because most liches are unstable, and either way, it requires a lot of magic that could be used to terrible ends. But I’m not evil, and I didn’t become a lich for selfish reasons.”

“Then why did you?” Kravitz asked. He didn’t normally talk to his bounties like this, not with an open ear, but since they were working together for now, he figured he should at least hear Barry out.

“To fight the Hunger, why else? It was getting harder to escape it each cycle, and we needed more power than we had before. It didn’t really feel morally wrong, since we were already coming back to life every year whether we wanted to or not.”

“And it was just the two of you?” Kravitz asked.

“Yep,” Barry said. “It’s a dangerous process, and a lot can go wrong. All of the others were either incapable or uninterested in that kind of necromancy. You have to understand, this isn’t something we’d do in normal circumstances.”

“I hear that a lot,” Kravitz said dryly. He believed it, that a lot of bad things that people did were at least partly influenced by circumstances out of their control, but it didn’t erase the fact that what they did was wrong.

“Yeah, well, most people don’t spend decades passing from planar system to planar system," Barry said, his tone turning more serious. "You can’t imagine what it’s like to experience a life where every year, you lose everything except the things you take with you and the people you came with. Every year, there’s a whole  _ world _ of stuff that you’ll never see again. That food, that art, those sceneries and people and cities and  _ everything. _ And no matter what you do, you know you’ll always continue on, losing more people and worlds, with the fate of every remaining planar system resting on your shoulders. Each time you enter a new world, everything in it is going to end unless you manage to save it in time. And if you and your whole crew die, if the ship breaks down or something, that’s it for the rest of the universes too. So yeah, I’d say the circumstances were pretty unusual.”

“Yeah, I guess that is,” Kravitz said, which felt like a hugely inadequate response to what Barry had just said. He had skimmed a journal, he had learned from Barry and Lucretia the outline of what had happened, but he hadn’t really sat down and thought of the impact it would have had on the people who went through it. As a reaper of the Raven Queen, he still couldn’t agree with anyone becoming a lich, but those were extenuating circumstances if he had ever heard them.

“So what happens to us after all this?” Barry asked. “Lup and I broke your rules. Are you going to arrest us?”

“I... don’t know,” Kravitz said honestly. “I’ll have to talk to the Raven Queen. Your story is... pretty unique. I will try to speak out on your behalf, but I won’t disobey her orders.”

“Wait, really?” Barry turned his head to look at Kravitz directly. “You’d take our side?”

Kravitz shifted uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t necessarily go that far, but you make a good case. You wouldn’t get off scot free, but if you play a major part in saving all the worlds, that’s a pretty good reason to be a little lenient.”

“And if I don’t, then it won’t really matter either way,” Barry said with a short chuckle. “Anyway, now you know why I became a lich. Why did you become a reaper?”

“I didn’t have a lot of choice,” Kravitz said. “I don’t know how much you heard me talking to Lydia and Edward, but they tried to use necromancy to save my life. It didn’t work completely, and I still died, but I was also a little undead, so I couldn’t join the lake of souls in the Astral Plane.”

“Oh geez,” Barry said. “The other Kravitz talked about his siblings during our century together, but I didn’t know they would do something like that.”

Kravitz shrugged. “Yeah, well, those versions of my siblings never had a reason to.” Somewhere out there were a Lydia and Edward who had never practiced evil magic, who had never broken the laws of life and death for his sake. They had the potential to, but circumstances had never pushed them in that direction. Kravitz still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. “The Queen didn’t want to punish someone who was blameless, so she had me serve her until she could figure out how to undo the spells my siblings put on me. By then, I’d gotten pretty good at my job, and I enjoyed it, so I’ve been staying on ever since.”

“Huh,” Barry said. “I guess I never really thought about how and why someone would become a reaper, but that makes sense.”

“She might ask you to be a reaper,” Kravitz said.

“What?”

“That’s a good option the Queen has for dealing with borderline exceptions,” Kravitz explained. Almost all of the reapers were similar to him in that way, people too guilty to get off scot-free but too innocent to be actually punished. “Not every person is suited to being a bounty hunter, but some guard the Stockade or guide new souls to the Astral Plane or organize paperwork, or do whatever else needs doing.”

“Well, if that is the option she gives, I wouldn’t be opposed to taking that,” Barry said. “Fighting death crimes with Lup seems fun, and I’d say that you and I worked pretty well together back in Wonderland.”

Kravitz turned the idea over in his mind. Despite his lingering hesitation, Barry did seem like a genuinely good guy. They could get a lot done working together as actual teammates rather than tentative allies. “I would say we did as well.”

Barry grinned. “Now all we gotta do is stop the apocalypse and try to convince the Raven Queen that Lup and I aren’t evil.”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said with a snort. “Just that.”

* * *

 

Avi was there to greet the Reclaimers in the hangar. “You guys came back! We were all so worried when we lost connection with you yesterday! I’m so glad to see you again alive! Do you have the Relic?”

For half a second, fear pierced Kravitz as he remembered that they had no explanation for Lup, but when he whipped his head back, there was no sign of her. She had the ability to turn invisible, he remembered. With Barry and Keats still in the pocket spa, there were no extra people they would have to explain away.

“Yeah, we are all very much alive, with the Relic,” Magnus said, smiling weakly. “Look, we really need to see the Director—”

The doors swung open, and Team Sweet Flips and Davenport entered.

“Hey, you’re back!” Carey said, running forward to give Magnus a high five. He returned it rather halfheartedly, and Kravitz saw Carey’s smile drip off into a concerned frown.

But he was too busy focusing on Davenport to really pay much attention. Davenport! Their captain for a hundred years! How had he ended up as this shell of a person, barely able to say more than his own name most days? Kravitz had a horrible suspicion that it was because of the second voidfish.

Kravitz reached into his pocket where he had kept the bottle full of voidfish ichor on the walk to Barry’s cave and found with a start that it wasn’t there. He panicked for a brief instant, as he remembered that he hadn’t thought to take it again after giving it to Barry, but then Merle stepped forward.

“Hey, Cap’nport,” Merle said, handing him the bottle as Noelle gave them a puzzled look. “Drink this.”

“Davenport?”

“Trust me,” Merle said grimly. “You’re going to need this.”

Davenport obeyed, his face struck frozen once he swallowed.

Killian hadn’t been paying much attention to either of them, but she turned to see Davenport drop the bottle, water scattering across the floor. “What the hell did you give him?!”

“We can’t explain right now,” Magnus said, his voice gruff with a kind of seriousness that Kravitz had not heard in a long time. “Take us to the Director. She has all the answers.”

“Well, she should be in her office still,” Noelle said cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

With everything going on, there was no possible response Kravitz could think of to that. He wasn’t okay, he was retroactively not okay for the past twelve years, he was better off than he had been in a long time. None of the others had a good response to that either, or at least they didn’t respond. Taako marched out of the room, Kravitz and Magnus right behind him as Merle trailed behind to help Davenport along.

“Should we follow them?” Kravitz heard Avi whisper.

“I dunno, they seem pretty upset, so maybe we should give them some space?” Carey said as the door to the dome swung shut behind them.

At their quick pace, the Reclaimers reached Lucretia’s office in no time. They found her at her desk like Noelle had said. She looked up when they entered.

“Lucretia,” Taako spat, and this one word somehow held the weight of a hundred years of friendship and a decade of betrayal.

Realization spread across her face. “Taako? You—how do you—Do all of you know?”

“What have you done?” Davenport asked, his voice quiet with horror.

“I’m sorry,” Lucretia whispered. In the past year, Kravitz had always seen her as quite impassive and mature, but that facade had crumbled away. Now he saw the same scared and lonely young woman, old past her years, that he had seen after the cycle with the judges. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t—”

“Lucretia, darling, I don’t want to be angry at you, but you have quite a bit of explaining to do,” Lup said, her ghostly form materializing in the room.

Lucretia jumped back. “Lup! You’re alive! I—How are you here? This place is warded against liches!”

“Well, I’m not exactly  _ alive _ ,” Lup drawled.

“How about you explain what exactly you’re doing here first,” Magnus growled.

Taako snorted. “What needs explaining? ‘The Director’ here thought she knew best, so she decided to erase our lives and doom the world. You took  _ everything _ away from me!” His voice rang out, full of pain and anger.

“It’s too late for anger now,” Merle said, looking up back and forth between the faces of his furious friends, his own face filled with concern. “Look, let’s hear her out and work together to fix this.”

“If Lup wasn’t here right now, if I didn’t know she was still around...” Taako said, his tone dangerous even as a tear fell down his face. “You left her trapped in an umbrella for twelve years!”

“Hey, let me be angry over my own struggles,” Lup said, though she looked more worried than angry.

“I know,” Lucretia said softly. “And I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be this way, and I know nothing I say will be enough, but I couldn’t stand by and watch as our choices tore this world apart!”

Kravitz watched all this numbly as the family he had come to know over a hundred years threw themselves into the argument. They all seemed to know where they stood, faces revealing various levels of anger, hurt, fear, and concern. But Kravitz didn’t. 

He had spent months getting to know a distant but friendly boss, growing to like and trust her. Then he had learned that she was hiding something hugely important to his existence, that the premise of the organization he worked for was a lie, and that she might have betrayed him and his friends. Now he knew the betrayal was even worse than he could have imagined, but he also remembered a century of living and dying together, of growing to love her, connected by bonds forged in constant cycles of joy and loss.

That didn’t leave Kravitz with a simple reaction to all this. He wanted to run away, to take time to process all this or maybe to avoid the conundrum altogether. He wanted to hurt her with cruel words, piercing and true in a way that all his bardly experience had made him capable of. He wanted to hug her, reunited fully after all the years of separation.

“We heard some noise...” a new voice said, and Kravitz turned to see Barry’s head poking out of Taako’s backpack. Taako made a surprised noise in the back of his throat and threw the backpack on the ground, as Barry began climbing out of it. “Hey, Lucretia, Davenport. Long time no see.”

Lucretia stared at him. “Was it you? Who got the voidfish ichor and took down the lich ward?”

“That would actually be me,” said Keats, his head coming out just as Barry was removing his legs from the opening.

“I should have known telling you would end badly,” Lucretia muttered.

Keats looked between them all. “What exactly is happening?”

“Look, we don’t have time to explain everything, or to continue fighting,” Lucretia said. “We’re going to be under attack very soon, probably some time in the next few hours, and we have to organize the Bureau members so we can fight back.”

“That’s what I meant,” Keats said. “What’s our plan? How are we doing this?”

“All we have to do is to figure out how to save this entire planar system and all the other ones,” Merle said, somewhat sarcastically. “Can’t be too hard.”

“Well, what are the options?” Lup asked.

“We can go through with my plan—” Lucretia began.

“No!” Kravitz exclaimed, half a dozen other voices joining his.

“Or we can leave this cycle and try again,” Davenport said.

“Absolutely not,” Magnus said.

“Yeah, I’d prefer it if you didn’t leave us all behind to fend for ourselves,” Keats said. “Plus I’d be sad to see you all go.”

“The Hunger won’t destroy this place if we leave with the Light,” Davenport said. “Just hit it a couple of times.”

“Still,” Keats said. “If there’s another option, I’d prefer as little death as possible.”

“I don’t think there is another option.” Barry looked down and sighed. “I mean, I’d love for there to be one, but we’ve been thinking about this for a century, and we only ever came with those two options.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Kravitz said. “There has to be something else. Remember Paloma’s prophecy?” He made eye contact with Taako. “Didn't you say that one of her big prophecies said that there was a third option?”

“She did...” Taako said, eyebrows furrowing together.

“I mean sure there are other options,” Lucretia said. “But will we be able to figure anything out before the Hunger comes?”

“We should try to think of something,” Davenport said. “But in the meantime, we need to get the Starblaster, just in case. It might not be ideal, but if we have no other plan, leaving this world to their fate is the only thing that could save it. And we have the rest of the multiverse to consider.”

“Wait,” Kravitz said. “Lucretia, you wiped the Hunger from the memories of everyone, right? How is that going to work when the Hunger comes to attack?”

“Uh,” Lucretia said. “I don’t know, but I don’t think it’ll be good.”

“Alright,” Davenport said. “Lucretia, you and me will go get the Starblaster. Magnus, take someone with you and see if you can get the baby Voidfish—”

“Junior,” Magnus supplied.

“—to broadcast information about the Hunger somehow.”

“I’ll come with,” Kravitz said. As a bard, he was the most persuasive of their group, and he had no idea if that would help, but it seemed worth a shot.

“Lup, Barry, Taako, find some way to get through to the other planes,” Davenport continued. The trio nodded. “Merle, person who looks like Kravitz, get the voidfish ichor and give it to the rest of the Bureau. Prepare them to fight.”

“Um,” Keats said, making a gesture at Lucretia. Kravitz turned to see her cast a shield bubble around herself.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t abandon this world after everything we put it through,” Lucretia said. And then her bubble turned opaque and vanished. 

Kravitz’s heart crumpled, hurt by the fact that he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised by her betrayal.

“This changes nothing!” Davenport said over everyone else who had begun to speak. “She doesn’t have the Animus Bell yet, so she can’t do anything. Continue your assigned task. I’ll get Angus to help me find the Starblaster. Whoever has the Bell, please keep a close eye on it in case she tries to take it.”

Everyone immediately dispersed, some leaving immediately, others talking, and Kravitz couldn’t keep track of all the noise and movement. He looked around for Magnus only to find him right beside him.

“We need to get Junior,” Magnus said. “I promised Fisher I’d bring them their kid.”

Kravitz nodded. “Keats, you got into the Director’s private quarters before, right?” 

“There’s an illusion spell in the hallway,” Keats said. “But if you know about it, it shouldn’t have any effect. And hopefully the door’s still unlocked from when Angus and I went in, otherwise I got nothing.”

Magnus ran past them before Kravitz could even take a step inside and came out a moment later with the baby voidfish carefully held in his arms.

They made their way out of the office and through the quads to the Voidfish’s dome. Someone must have alerted the entire Bureau to the coming threat because everyone was rushing around outside. Everything seemed to be happening at once, and Kravitz didn’t know how to deal with any of it. He just kept walking, keeping his mind on Fisher, not that there was a lot to think about there. He had no idea how to get Fisher or Junior to regurgitate the information that had been fed to them. Fisher had never done it in the years they traveled together.

Johann was still in the Voidfish chamber when they entered. “What's poppin’?” he asked his voice as droopy as ever. 

“We got a baby Voidfish!” Magnus said, holding Junior up. In front of them, Fisher made a loud noise that could be replicated fairly accurately by dropping an orchestra off a cliff.

“What the fuck did you say?!” Johann asked, but Magnus was rushing past him toward Fisher's tank.

Fisher raised themself out of the tank, reaching a tendril out to Junior, tentative and shy in a way that Kravitz had never seen before. He found himself holding his breath as Junior held one out in response. After a moment, Fisher tenderly picked Junior out of Magnus's hands and brought them in close.

“Hey, Fisher. Sorry for taking so long to bring your baby back,” Magnus said. Fisher hummed a note in response. “We need—is there any way you can broadcast the information you erased? Like how the other Voidfish did back on the planar system with all those competing universities.”

Johann leaned close to Kravitz. “I hate to interrupt, but what the hell is he saying?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Kravitz whispered back. “I physically cannot right now.”

Johann gave him a weird look but said nothing more.

“You’ve done it before, right?” Kravitz tried as the Voidfish hummed a hesitant note. “Back on your homeworld? Do you remember how to do that? The Hunger is coming back, and if we don’t do something to unerase the knowledge of its existence, no one will be able to fight back.”

And then something happened that Kravitz had never seen before. The dots of light in Fisher’s bell slowly began to move around, picking up speed as they went, spreading throughout their entire body.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Johann asked, his voice pitched high with growing panic. “The Voidfish’s never done that before!”

The turquoise light began spilling out Fisher’s body, more liquid-like than light, filling up the room and spreading further beyond. 

Just like all those times back in the cycle with the Legato Conservatory, Kravitz’s mind suddenly held information that it hadn’t before. There were dozens of stories and songs that appeared in his brain, a softer and less intense version of when he had drunk the voidfish ichor the day before.

The stories were those of the Relic Wars and the Bureau of Balance, all the people who had died and then been erased, their lives dedicated to fighting items of power beyond belief and corruption of the mind. There were bits about the Hunger too, nothing that painted the full story of their century on the run, but Kravitz caught scenes of watching planar systems be devoured and terrifying enemies appearing from columns of black that came from the sky and of the IPRE fighting back.

The light started to fade, but it did not seem like the power was disappearing, more like it was passing from this place to the greater world beyond.

“Okay, what the fuck,” Johann said. “Why do I suddenly know all this stuff about a thing called ‘the Hunger’?”

* * *

The end of the world was coming, and with the stories and songs still echoing in his mind, Kravitz drew out his scythe to face it.

Things had looked dark at first. Merle vanished as Kravitz was handing out voidfish ichor, and immediately afterwards, the Hunger’s first soldiers began to emerge from pillars of darkness.

But after that beam of light that came from the voidfish had passed by, everyone had regrouped in the quads with renewed strength and hope, coming up with a plan to defeat the Hunger once and for all. Now a group of them were off to help Lucretia cast a shield around the Hunger while Kravitz, Lup, Barry, and all the other non-IPRE members of the Bureau stayed behind to protect the world.

The armies of the Hunger hadn’t been too much at first. A few of them attacked the moonbase, but ‘Team Sweet Flips’ had that covered pretty well, so Avi had sent the rest of them off to all the major cities where the Hunger was attacking.

Kravitz went to Goldcliff with Lup and Barry, but it quickly became clear that the people of Goldcliff were doing quite well for themselves. The Hunger clearly hadn’t expected to go up against so many people who knew exactly what was coming and were so strongly inspired to fight back.

After hearing of how eight people had tried so hard for so long to stave off the Hunger, about the organization that tried to lessen the cost of keeping the Hunger away, and the countless heart-rending compositions Johann had fed to Fisher, it would have been hard not to feel pushed into resisting. Inspiration pulsed through Kravitz like fire through long-dead veins. He had never felt more prepared to face anything in all his life and death.

Fighting back was almost easy at first. Lup and Barry were at his side, and normally that would have made Kravitz wary, but now after seeing parts of their story, he couldn’t help trusting them. This trust did not appear to be misplaced, as the two seemed to always have his back.

In between slicing at the Hunger’s armies, Kravitz noticed that their group was not the only one working so closely together. He saw grizzened-looking fighters guide children to safety, shadowy rogues block blades that would have otherwise killed their compatriots. He even saw a tree come to life as a pair of dryads in order to protect a dwarf girl.

It was heartening to see this better side of people. These were unusual circumstances, with an obviously evil common enemy and a shared telepathic experience encouraging them to work together and face this threat, but after centuries of seeing the worst of people over and over again, seeing this gave Kravitz almost as much hope as the stories and songs had.

Still, hope alone was not enough to win the battle. As they continued to fight, their opponents grew in number and strength. Kravitz got the feeling the Hunger had been testing them before, to see how much effort to put into this. Now there were enormous dragons circling the cliffs, and in the distance, Kravitz saw giant figures stomping trees into the ground.

“Oh shit, it’s the judges!” Lup shouted at Barry as she blasted a Hunger-taken elephant with fire.

“We’re going to have to deal with that.” Barry looked at Kravitz for a split second. “You good dealing with the dragons by yourself?”

“I got it,” Kravitz said, jabbing at a weird mongoose-looking creature before it could bite Barry’s legs.

It was time to trade his current body for something a bit bigger, Kravitz thought as he scanned the area for any convenient pile of rocks to shape. There was a large boulder near the edge of the cliff that would make a good torso, he decided, as he shaped that and all the other loose rocks nearby into a humanoid shape.

Quickly, trying not to leave his soul vulnerable for too long, Kravitz threw himself into the new body, adjusting to its far greater size in only a few moments. Being this huge, he was a little slower in his movements than normal, but he was fireproof and could also swat dragons that came by with enough force to do real damage.

After he managed to pin one dragon down with a well-thrown boulder, the rest flew off, but before he could chase after them, he felt a tug in his heart, and a white tunnel-like gate opened up in front of him. Kravitz couldn’t see what was on the other side, but he could feel something calling out to him. It was nothing like the demanding pull of the Animus Bell or any other cursed items he had dealt with as a reaper, but something far more genuine. It reached into his soul to the part that loved the world and his friends, and asked politely for help.

Kravitz could easily have refused, but he didn’t. Something on the other side needed his help, and dragons could wait a little while longer.

Once he stepped through, he saw the four Reclaimers and some strange Hunger being with four orbs circling around its head, all on the deck of the Starblaster.

“Ooh, it’s  _ big _ Keats,” Taako said.

“Golem Keats!” Magnus cheered.

“How’s the fight going back on Faerun?” his doppleganger asked.

“Better than I would have expected,” Kravitz said. He looked at Taako. “I was with Lup and Barry, and they were doing great last I saw them.”

Taako nodded, relief relaxing his face. “Thanks.”

“What do you want me to do now?” Kravitz asked.

“Attack that dude,” his doppleganger said, pointing at the Hunger being.

Kravitz nodded and materialized his scythe, resized to fit his huge hands. He swung with all his force behind it, and he could see the being wobble like it had almost been knocked over. When it regained its balance, it looked significantly worse for wear.

That call that had initially brought him here faded away, and Kravitz knew he had done what he had come here to do. Now he had to return and continue fighting the battle he had been in the middle of before.

Before he stepped back into the gate, he raised his hand in farewell. “Please don’t die. I’d rather not see you all get in trouble for coming back to life again, if at all possible.”

The laughter of his friends followed him back onto the cliffs he had been on originally, cutting off only when that glowing gate disappeared.

They were going to win, he thought. His friends were defeating what was clearly an important part of the Hunger, and he had no doubt that Lucretia would succeed in her spell and that the people of this world would continue to fight off the Hunger’s armies until then. The end of the world had seemed like such a terrifying threat, but now that it was here, it felt manageable. They were going to come out of this fine.

* * *

“I never really thanked you for getting our memories back,” Kravitz said, once everything was over. It was a week after the world had almost ended, and he felt like he could breathe for the first time in a hundred and twelve years. “So thank you. For trying to figure out what was going on when I couldn’t and breaking into Lucretia’s private quarters and getting us out of Wonderland.”

Keats shrugged, playing with the coffee cup in his hands. “I’m glad I did. If nothing else, that sort of did save the world. And besides, if I wouldn’t do things for myself, then who would I do them for?”

“Fair,” Kravitz said. “But still, I appreciate it. It’s... all been a lot recently. What have you been up to since the world almost ended?”

“The Astral Plane is one giant mess,” Keats said with a sigh. “We’re still processing all those souls that were blocked from coming over when the Hunger first arrived, plus most of the souls got out of the Stockade, and a bunch are trying to get their sentences reduced or wiped away because they fought against the Hunger, but some of them are just gone. Honestly, I think half the reason the Raven Queen was so quick to make Lup and Barry reapers was because she needed more hands. This is the first moment I’ve had  _ to myself _ all week.” Keats smirked at him.

It took Kravitz a beat to get the joke, and when he did, he groaned, looking out the window of the cafe to hide the small smile creeping up his face. 

“So what about you?”

“It’s a bit chaotic, though not as bad as for you, it seems,” Kravitz said. “We’ve been clearing out the rubble and stuff from the moonbase. A lot of us are preparing to leave now that we aren’t looking for Relics anymore. I think Lucreita is planning on remodelling the organization to help with rebuilding efforts though, so some people are staying.”

“Are you?” Keats asked.

Kravitz shrugged. “Not for long. I’ve been talking about getting a house with Taako, Lup, and Barry and maybe Angus during his breaks, but the world is in shambles, and it’s kind of hard finding a place that will fit all of us and also the dozens of guests we will no doubt accommodate on numerous occasions. But it’s awkward around Lucretia still, so yeah, we’re definitely not staying longer than we have to.”

“Are you still angry at Lucretia?” Keats asked hesitantly.

That was a difficult question that Kravitz had been asking himself all week. “I’m not exactly sure,” he admitted. “If you were me, would you be?”

For once, Keats didn’t pounce on the opportunity to make a joke about how they were the same person. After all, despite all the similarities, they had many vastly different experiences. “I—I’m not the quickest to forgive, and what Lucretia did was pretty unforgivable. But I also don’t like actively holding grudges, and... you all must have been so close. I think that whether or not I wanted to forgive her, it would pain me more to maintain that grudge.”

This wasn’t anything new, just echoes of Kravitz’s own thoughts, but hearing it out loud like that felt like a comb, smoothing out his messy and tangled feelings.

“That’s... yeah,” Kravitz said. “I guess with some time, I’ll forgive but hopefully not forget again.”

Keats snorted.

“But either way, Taako won’t, and I can’t blame him, but it does make living on the moonbase awkward,” Kravitz said. He had lived there for over a year, and it was the first place he had really felt at home in for a long while, but he was looking forward to leaving it and creating an even more comfortable and permanent home. “What about you? What do you think you’ll do once everything is settled?”

“Definitely more reaping,” Keats said. “I think I’ll spend more time among the living though. I’d kind of forgotten how many good and interesting things there are up here, and Lup and Barry will probably drag me out more often anyway. I’ll be seeing more of you, I hope.”

“Of course!” Kravitz said. “Once we get that house set up, you’d be welcome to drop in any time, or even live with us or whatever. You’re part of the gang now.”

“Oh, thank you,” Keats said, looking surprised by the offer, even though Kravitz knew he had no reason to expect anything different. “I’ll definitely visit.” Then his lips quirked up into a smirk. “Of all the people to have two versions of living in the same house, I’d say we’re one of the better options.”

Kravitz laughed. He imagined two Taakos or Barrys or Magnuses, and as much as he loved them all, that sounded like an enormous disaster. “Lucky it was us, huh?”

"Definitely," Keats said. "You know, I used to wonder what I would have ended up like if I hadn't died when I did and become a reaper."

Kravitz did know. He often wondered what he might have been like if various parts of his own life were different, and even more so during his century of travel. "Well, here I am. I suppose we didn't have  _ exactly _ the same lives before things really split off, but close enough. Am I what you’d expect?"

"If I'm being honest... Well, there are times when I really just think I'm a horrible mess of a person, even when I have no rational reasons for that," Keats said. "But you make me proud to be me."

Kravitz gaped at this alternate version of himself, drowned in the sudden wave of affection. "I'm so awkward, how can you be so smooth?!" he demanded.

Keats just laughed.

"Genuinely, I don't think it's possible for me to receive a better compliment than that," Kravitz said. "Fuck, Keats, I—you're the one really bringing honor to our name. I guess... You make me proud of being me too." It was strange to think about, but it was true. Even before he got his memories and a full century of confidence back, he had started feeling more sure of himself because all those things he thought probably annoyed or weirded people out seemed fine on Keats, or at least other people seemed to like him anyway. Keats’ laugh was nice, he didn't say things that made everyone secretly look down on him, his face made normal expressions that didn’t look terrible, which on some level meant that Kravitz couldn't be all that bad himself.

"Eh, well I'm better at fighting and spotting the undead anyway," Keats said.

Kravitz snorted. "Well I'm better at music and adapting to new situations."

"How do you know?” Keats raised his eyebrow challengingly. “You've never seen me play anything before."

Kravitz grinned. "Joking aside, I'd be interested in seeing you play. I have some instruments in my room, if you want to play.”

“It’s been a couple decades since I even touched my instrument,” Keats said, standing up and pulling out his scythe. “But I used to be pretty good at the guitar.”

A couple moments later, the pair stepped out of the Astral Plane into the Reclaimers’ common room on the moonbase. It was currently empty, everyone else off somewhere else or in their own private room. Between everyone saving the world, then celebrating the continuation of the world and starting to rebuild the world, the Reclaimers had generally been too tired to hang out much recently.

“I have more than enough instruments for both of us,” Kravitz said. “You wanna do a duet?”

“I have literally always wanted to sing harmonies with myself,” Keats said. “How could I possibly turn this down?”

Rolling his eyes, Kravitz entered his room, handing a guitar case to Keats and taking out a fiddle for himself.

Keats opened the case and lifted the guitar carefully out of it, digging around the pocket until he brought out a pick. “Do you have a tuning fork or something?”

“Nope,” Kravitz said. “Welcome to the future, man. We now have spells that make it so instruments are automatically tuned. I think it was invented like a couple hundred years ago? Some of the older elves in my orchestra joked about how lucky young ones are these days.”

“Holy shit, that’s amazing,” Keats said, plucking at the strings. “This really is in tune. I should have kept up with the music world more, because it’s a shame I spent so long tuning everything when I could have not been doing that.”

Kravitz grinned. “Well, now you can not tune instruments as much as you like. What songs do you know?”

“Mostly folk songs and stuff,” Keats said. “I only really played in my village.”

“At least some of it will probably be the same then,” Kravitz said, remembering the song Keats had mentioned to Lydia and Edward and how he had known it too. “What about, uh...?” Kravitz cast around in his mind for something popular and long-lasting, something that would be likely for Keats to know as well. “Do you know Gathering Rhubarb?”

Keats raised an eyebrow. “Interesting choice, but yes, I do.”

Kravitz shrugged, a bit embarrassed. People loved songs they could snigger to, so even though it was a bit straight for his personal tastes, it was among the most well-known songs he knew. “That was just the first thing that came to mind, I also know—”

“It’s fine,” Keats said, his fingers finding their position on the frets for the first chord. “It’s a fun one, at least.” He brought down the pick and began to sing the first line.

Kravitz lifted the fiddle to his chin and joined in on the harmonies.

It wasn’t perfect, definitely not something he would perform in front of a crowd, even a small one. It was clear that Keats hadn’t played in awhile, and his fingers stumbled over chord changes. Kravitz himself hadn’t heard the song in decades, and he messed up on some of the notes. But it was  _ fun _ , silly in a way that hadn’t seemed possible for him to be in the past couple of weeks.

This took him back to times long ago, when his siblings dragged him out to the pub or to village festivals to play and join in the celebration. He remembered joy and flickering firelight and compliments from the cute boy with blue hair, the familiar tune pulling out strands of memory he thought he had forgotten long ago.

So much had changed since those times, and Kravitz had come further than he ever dreamed could be possible. It should have been weird, playing a song with an alternate version of himself in a completely separate planar system, but somehow it wasn’t. It wasn’t normal yet—this was only the first time they had played together—but Kravitz found himself wanting it to be.

Of all the directions his life could have ended up going, this was pretty far from being the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gathering Rhubarb is a Discworld reference, and it doesn’t really fit the tone of this scene, but I’m not very creative. You can find a version of the song on youtube

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Kravitzzimo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19749193) by [starlightwalking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking)




End file.
